


We Could be Heroes

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/M, First Meetings, Human AU, alternate new york, not a coffee shop au though it starts out that way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2020-06-30 03:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 42,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19844506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: Marianne sees an attractive man at her favorite coffee shop





	1. On the Way to Work

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, another new idea because I have insomnia at the moment and no impulse control.

Marianne yawned and rolled out of bed with a groan. She sat on the edge of her bed wearing flannel pink and green pajamas and a pair of red tube socks. It was another cold day in New York City, though with a quick glance at the window, she saw that it wasn’t snowing or raining today. Not that she didn’t enjoy either of those possibilities, but after several days of it, she was getting a little tired of trying to walk to the bus stop, rush down to the subway, followed by the walk of a couple of blocks farther to her job at Rachel’s of New York, a high end department store that only served the wealthy of the city. Her job was to sell makeup to rich old ladies or young socialites. 

Marianne yawned again and wandered out of her tiny bedroom--just big enough to hold her twin size bed with her old Hello Kitty sheets and bedspread, a tiny fold-out stool that she used as a bedside table, the lamp that she had purchased at Goodwill, one paperback novel and a rod between two of the walls that served as her closet since she didn't actually have a closet. Not that she was complaining. She didn’t need a roommate to afford her rent in Queens, which was a minor miracle. She had gotten damn lucky with her apartment even if it wasn’t much to look at. Marianne squinted at the light coming through her one tiny window and through the purple sheer curtains that were draped across it. Yeah, at least it was still partly cloudy; too much sun would annoy her too. She shook her head at herself. 

She shuffled into her living room/kitchen combo and headed over to the refrigerator where she pulled out a gallon of milk to pour herself a small cup from one of the clean plastic cups that sat on her fold out card table that served as her dining room table and also support for her TV so she could sit on her worn orange loveseat and watch TV. The walls in here were decorated with travel posters that she had found hanging out of a dumpster on her way home from work one day. They were bright and colorful and showed off places she could never afford to go, locales like Paris, Tahiti, and Guam. 

Marianne drank her milk, looking at the beaches of Guam before placing the plastic tumbler down next to its mate--her only two cups--and made her way down the tiny hall to the bathroom which consisted of a shower stall, toilet, sink and mirror. 

Marianne sighed a few minutes later as the warm water ran over her, helping to wake her fully. She would be glad to get off the subway and stop at the coffee shop, The Morning Jolt, for her one extravagant indulgence, a good cup of coffee. She purchased one every morning on her way to work, or every evening on her way home if she was scheduled to work a later shift. It was expensive, but she needed a good cup of coffee. She didn’t treat herself to much, but that cup of coffee was the best part of her day. 

She finished showering and walked to her bedroom wrapped in an old white towel--now mostly grey from age--to pick out her outfit for the day. She didn’t own a lot of outfits for work, but what she did own was designer...even if it did come from a high end used clothing store. And even then, the damn articles of clothing had cost her an arm and a leg. 

Marianne pressed her lips together. Her wet brown hair was brushed back as she ran a finger over her clothes, finally deciding on a used, black, cashmere sweater dress, black tights, and a pair of “only slightly scuffed if you got on your knees and examined them too closely” suede over-the-knee black boots. It was a lot of black today, but that fit her mood. She paired the dress with a long fake gold chain she had bought from a street vendor and she was ready to face the day. 

Marianne quickly did her hair and make-up, grabbed her blue trench coat (also a Goodwill purchase) and raced out the door to make her way to the bus stop. She owned a car, a red 1988 Toyota Corolla, which only a crazy person would drive to work in New York City. 

Marianne stopped to look at herself one last time in her faded and black marked mirror, giving herself a grin. 

“Ready to take on the world.” 

* 

The sky was turning out to be more blue than grey despite the chill in the air as Marianne walked at a brisk pace down the sidewalk, hoping that the line wouldn’t be too long this morning so she could get her coffee and maybe make it to work on time. She pushed her way through the crowded morning sidewalk traffic until she finally spotted the window of The Morning Jolt. She was hurrying past the large picture window when she saw a distractingly attractive man sitting at the table that was positioned just to the left of the window. She nearly stumbled over her own feet when she saw him. 

He was gorgeous. 

The man sat on one of the coffee shop’s several mismatched chairs, a cup of coffee in front of him while he read a paperback novel. His hair was combed back from his long, narrow face and tied in a loose bun at the nape of his neck. He had a short, trimmed beard and was dressed like her, all in black. His clothing was designer, but not at all like hers--it was clear to Marianne’s well trained eye that his clothing was fairly new. He wore black slacks, a black dress shirt, no tie--the top few buttons of his shirt undone--a black, slim cut blazer...and...that was the moment he glanced up and looked out the window, his eyes meeting hers. Despite the slight glare from the sun, Marianne caught a quick glimpse of blue eyes, deep, summer sun blue eyes. 

She made a little yelp, having been caught staring and swiftly turned, hurrying for the front door of the coffee shop. As soon as she stepped inside she realized...oh shit, she just walked inside the place where the guy she had been staring at was having coffee. Ugh. 

Marianne signed and decided it was best if she just got in line and pretended she wasn’t there at all. Which she did for a whole minute before she turned to look over at him. She thought he was really gorgeous, slim, stylish. She felt heat rise in her cheeks. Marianne couldn’t recall ever seeing him in here before, and she was pretty up on all The Morning Jolt regulars. It was one of those things where they all recognized each other by face, people who nod or sometimes even say “Hi” to each other, but conversation never went beyond acknowledging each others presence. The morning crowd was usually the group Marianne was most familiar with and that guy was not someone she had ever seen before. 

She quickly turned back around to stare at the back of the person ahead of her in line, doing her best not to look over her shoulder at mister tall, dark and handsome. 

* 

Marianne’s favorite barista, Cherry, was working the register today as Marianne walked up to place her order. Cherry was no older than twenty-two with bright pinkish red hair cut in a blunt bob and wore a patchwork sweater along with a pair of torn up jeans over which she wore a burgundy apron. “Hey Marianne! The usual?” the young woman asked with a bright smile. 

Marianne smiled in return. “Yeah Cherry, thank you.” 

Cherry grinned leaning over the counter as she deftly tapped in Marianne’s order into the register. “Hey,” she said with a lift of her eyebrows. “I saw you checking out our new customer over there by the window.” 

Marianne tried to act nonchalant. “Oh, I didn’t notice.” She turned to glance over her shoulder at the man still sitting there by the window. Cherry snorted. “Please, I saw you falling all over yourself outside before you came in.” 

Marianne wrinkled her nose at Cherry and stepped out of the way for Cherry to take the next customer’s order. Cherry laughed. “He was coming in during the evenings, but this weekend he turned to mornings. He comes in around the same time every morning, orders coffee--black--and sits there reading a book until he finishes his coffee.” 

Marianne leaned against the wall waiting for her order as she looked at the back of his head. “He is gorgeous,” she said, then winced at the tone of her voice. 

Cherry laughed. “I may not be into guys, but yeah, he is definitely gorgeous. His name is Bog, Bog King and, the best part, the man has an accent. Scottish I think.” 

Marianne turned, her eyes widening a fraction. “How do you know his name? And what do you mean, Scottish you think?” 

Cherry laughed. “Credit card. He gives his name for his coffee order...doesn’t take a Sherlock Holmes and his voice makes me think of those old period movies like, ah....” Cherry threw her hand around for a moment as she struggled to come up with a movie until a light went on behind her brown eyes and she pointed at Marianne. “Rob Roy! That’s it, he sounds like Rob Roy, that Liam Neeson movie!” 

Marianne blushed. “Oh.” 

“You should go say hi, or spill your coffee on him or something,” Cherry said with a grin. 

Marianne looked scandalized. “Cherry!” 

Cherry shrugged. “That’s how I met my girlfriend, dropped an ice cream cone on her. Best last moment decision I ever made.” 

Marianne sighed. “I could never do that. I would...do something stupid like drop it on his crotch.” 

Cherry snorted. “Okay, don’t do that. I’m pretty sure guys don’t like that. Nobody likes that.” 

Marianne chuckled as Cherry handed her coffee cup to her. “Well, have fun selling makeup to the needy today.” 

Marianne laughed. “Have fun selling coffee to the desperate!” She held her cup up with a smile and turned to leave. Heading for the door, she walked close to Bog King’s table and tried not to look, but her gaze was drawn over to him as he looked up from his book. Their eyes met and Marianne could have sworn she felt something, like a bolt of electricity rush down her spine. Then he smiled and she tripped over her own feet again just before she stumbled out of the door. 

* 

Work was work. Marianne liked her job for the most part. She felt that putting on makeup was like painting; you were creating something new and wonderful when you painted someone’s eyes or lips, showed them how to contour or explained color and palette to them. Granted, some people were not open to being shown the magic of makeup, stuck in their old ways of doing things, but most of the time she had fun. 

Today her favorite customer had come in, Mrs. Katz. She was a wealthy widow, but instead of being stuck up or unbearable, she was a sweet older woman who loved to come in and have Marianne do her makeup. And the best part, she loved to experiment with makeup! That meant Mrs. Katz usually monopolized Marianne’s time when she came in, but because she always spent several hundred dollars on makeup, the manager was quick to push Marianne over to the widow and let the two women gossip. 

Today it was clear to Marianne that Mrs. Katz had been to the beauty parlour before coming in. Her snow white hair was done up in her usual pageboy style bob, but Marianne could tell she had just received a trim. She had on a pair of large, oversized round sunglasses, a large, pink feathered boa, a bright blue long coat, and she was wearing a pair of shiny black boots. Marianne grinned. 

Mrs. Katz did not shy away from color. 

As she came in and approached the makeup counter, the older woman whipped off her glasses with a bright grin. “Marianne!! My favorite person in all the world. I need your help desperately!” 

Marianne laughed. “And how can I help you today, Mrs. Katz? 

“Well honey, this old broad has a date this afternoon and I need your help.” Mrs. Katz smiled as Marianne came around the corner, carrying a stool for her. 

Marianne’s grin broadened to a smile as she gave Mrs. Katz a sly look. “A date?” 

Mrs. Katz laughed. “Yep. His name is Harold, lives in my building, widower. He has a full head of hair and it's all his own!” Mrs. Katz waggled her eyebrows, making Marianne laugh. 

“Well he does sound like a catch.” Marianne smiled gently. “So, is this what you’ll be wearing today?” Marianne asked. 

Beneath her coat, Mrs. Katz was dressed in a blue one piece pant suit with wide bell legs and matching long bell like sleeves. Mrs Katz grinned. “Yep. I thought the blue would bring out my eyes.” 

Marianne nodded. “You are absolutely correct. Now, let’s see if we can bring those eyes are more and enhance your lips.” 

Mrs. Katz smiled. “Make me irresistible, my dear.” 

Marianne laughed. “You got it.” 

* 

While Marianne worked, Mrs. Katz mused. “So, anyone new in your life dear?” 

Marianne frowned as she delicately applied eyeliner. “No...well...maybe.” 

“Maybe? Okay my dear, I’m intrigued.” Mrs. Katz opened her other eye to level a gaze at here, a penetrating eye that had Marianne squirming a little. 

Marianne blushed. “Well, there was this guy this morning, at the coffee shop. He was...I’ve never seen anyone as handsome as that man, I’m pretty sure. He had these blue eyes...they were just...wow…” Marianne cringed. “Oh God...I know that sounded a bit weird, but I swear, I’ve never seen such blue eyes before.” 

Mrs. Katz smiled. “Not at all dear. Did you speak to him?” 

Marianne shook her head. “Oh, no.” 

“Why not dear? If there is one thing I’ve learned, life is short. You should go and talk to him! Who knows what might happen?” Mrs. Katz fluttered her eyes as Marianne stepped back from outlining them. 

“I don’t know. You didn’t see this guy. He looked like he has money, really nice clothes and he is so handsome. Really handsome, like magazine handsome, but in real life.” Marianne blushed. “I’m not exaggerating when I say he was the most gorgeous man I have ever seen. I mean, he is the type of a guy that goes out with models and actresses, has to be. He wouldn’t be interested in a homely nobody like me who works at a makeup counter,” Marianne said with a sad smile as she reached over to pick up the mascara. 

Mrs. Katz tsked. “Marianne, you a beautiful young woman. You’re talented, smart and hardworking. Any man would jump at the chance to go out with you.” 

Marianne blushed. “You’re just saying that because you are sweet.” 

Mrs. Katz laughed. “No I’m not, dear. I’m a horrid, old woman--ask anyone.” 

Marianne laughed. “Well I think you are doing a fantastic job of hiding it then.” 

Mrs. Katz smiled before she reached out to touch Marianne’s arm. “Darling, life is short. Please, try asking him out. What if he is the one and you are wasting time that you could have together?” 

The older woman spoke with feeling. Marianne could see it in her eyes, the loss, the loneliness… 

Maybe she was right...what if? What if she was wasting time that could be spent with the man who was, well, the one? 

Marianne nodded with a tentative smile. “Of course, you’re right. What can it hurt?” 

Mrs. Katz grinned. “Now that’s my girl.” 

* 

The next morning all of Marianne’s gusto that she had the night before, what had her convinced that she was going to talk to the gorgeous man, evaporated when she stepped onto the bus and realized she had forgotten her wallet on the table back in her apartment. She had been cleaning out old receipts that she had crammed into the bottom of her purse. She had set her wallet on the table and simply forgotten to slip the wallet back into her purse. 

She stood on the last step by the bus driver in a small panic. Today she had taken care when dressing. (Not that she didn’t always take care with her clothing. She worked at a high end department store, but could barely make it from one payday to the next. Part of how she did it was making her discount and Goodwill clothing look good, fashionable and chic, which meant being creative and careful with her looks.) She wore a forest green rhythm Deschanel shirt dress, the collar was a little “school marm,” but the dress had a flirty skirt that showed off her legs and the color looked good on her. She had worn some nude heels that she knew made her legs look good, and her fake jewelry brought the outfit together (as long as no one looked too closely.) But as she stood there, no money, on the bus, being stared at by the driver with the tired look of a man who would rather be anywhere else, drawing the attention of the other riders who simply wanted to get going to their destination Marianne began to panic. All the reasons she couldn’t get close to anyone raised their ugly heads as she was forced to reach into her purse and pull out a tissue. She looked hard at the tissue, feeling the rise of her ability like a sudden flash of warmth that spread throughout her body. She focused her attention on the bus driver. His eyes became unfocused. 

She pressed her lips together as she held the tissue out. 

The driver looked down and took it, ran the card that he now saw in his hand through the scanner then handed the tissue back. Marianne smiled a little sickly at the driver, tucking the tissue back into her purse and hurried to the back of the bus, shame washing over her. She hadn’t used her abilities in months, and now... 

She flopped into her seat and stared at the window, her cheeks red with shame. She hated manipulating people like that, using her powers to fool them into seeing things that weren’t there. When she was younger, she had thought it was fun playing with what she could do, creating illusions that were so real that no one could tell the difference. Her illusions would pass tactile, visual, and olfactory senses, completely real for the duration she focused on them, before they would simply vanish when she either wished them away, or with distance and time. She wasn’t sure how long she could hold an illusion, or where her complete focus had to be on an illusion, but once she had lost interest in it, the illusion would usually fade on its own. She didn’t know if her powers were magic or something else, like a super power that characters in movies and books had, but when her abilities had gotten someone hurt, she had promised herself she would not use them again. Her parents had tried their best to help her, to understand what she could do, but when she had cut off her abilities, they had accepted it and let her be. She knew they hadn’t agreed with her, but her parents had let the topic drop when Marianne refused to use her powers. 

She had held to it for a long time...until now. 

And now...she was reminded again why she couldn’t simply talk to a man, look for a relationship, live a normal life looking for love or happiness. Because she wasn’t normal. She was strange and she was dangerous, she was weird, and alone. There was no one else like her. She simply couldn’t share that part of herself for fear she would not just alienate whoever it was she loved, but that they might turn on her, hurt her or her family. She simply couldn’t take that risk. 

Marianne sighed shakily, feeling a spike of loneliness and regret. She swallowed down her tears, blinking quickly to force the tears back. She was not going to cry. She was too old for that and she had shed all her tears long ago. 

Marianne chewed her bottom lip and resumed staring out the window. 

* 

Marianne almost walked by the coffee shop without going in for her morning coffee, telling herself she was saving herself money. (Cherry had given her a tab one day when Marianne had been short. She didn’t abuse the privilege she had been given, but she hadn’t refrained from using it either.) But at the last second, as she started to walk by, she turned on her toes and pulled the door open. This was her coffee shop; she would be damned if she was going to let some good-looking guy that she couldn’t bring herself to talk to keep her out of her favorite coffee shop. 

When she walked in, her gaze felt drawn to the table where the man named Bog sat, in the same spot he had been in the morning before. Her gaze was drawn to him like a magnet to a magnet. His long hair was pulled neatly back into a tail today. He wore a fashionable, expensive looking greyish brown suit with a darker tan tie. His facial hair was trimmed close to his face and he looked upset. It was only then that Marianne noticed the woman sitting at the table across from him. 

She was lovely, Marianne guessed, though she clearly was one of those women with resting bitch face. She had shoulder-length black hair with signs that it was expensively cut and styled. Marianne had seen enough women with similarly cut hair to recognize an expensive haircut when she saw it. Marianne could also just tell by the shine, and from having dealt with many expensive women at her job with perfect hair who came in and out of the make-up section every day. Now that Marianne thought about it, all these rich women had a similar look, like clones; for a brief moment Marianne giggled at the thought that all rich women were simply cloned in a factory and sent out into the world to find rich men. The idea brought a grin to her lips. It would make a great book she thought. 

Her temporary amusement vanished within moments as she looked the woman sitting with Bog. The mystery woman wore an expensive white sweater dress that came down just past her long, slender thighs. She was also wearing boots, burgundy--also expensive Marianne noted--thigh high boots that Marianne herself had seen at the department store she worked at, boots she herself had coveted until this moment. The precious boots were now permenantly ruined for Marianne. The worst part was that the mystery woman and Bog looked good together, like they belonged together, both beautiful, both rich, well-dressed...a magazine perfect couple, almost too good looking to be real. It made her nauseous. Bog King could never be interested in plain old Marianne Summerfield when he had a beautiful clone model to be with...Marianne tried not to sigh at the depressing thought. 

The way they were leaning toward each other made Marianne think not only did they know each other, but that they were intimate. Marianne’s feeling of nausea spiked; of course they were intimate. The woman leaned close to Bog reaching out to put a hand on his arm. He pulled his arm out of her grasp as he picked up his cup of coffee. Their voices were low, but it was that sort of loud whispering that people struggling not to yell at each other have when arguing in public. 

Marianne walked past their table to get in line for coffee, trying not to let her gaze linger on him, but as she passed he looked up. His blue eyes were such a startling shade that he made her heart skip a beat. His expression was both startled, pleased, and sad when he saw her. He gave her a little smile that she didn’t intend to return, but she couldn’t stop her rebellious mouth from turning up into a smile. 

Marianne quickly turned away muttering at herself under her breath. “Stupid Marianne, stupid. ‘Course a guy like that has a girlfriend...clearly a model girlfriend. Stupid...” She muttered to herself under her breath, her head down and staring at her feet. She let her hair fall forward to hide her from view. She wanted to sink into the floor. Today was going to be the day the universe reminded her that not only was she some sort of a freak, but that she was destined to be a lonely freak. 

Thanks universe, she thought, thanks a whole lot. 

* 

The wait for coffee wasn’t terrible this morning and her hair hanging down helped her from looking over at Bog and the woman he was with. Marianne remained focused on her shoes until she made it to the counter. Cherry, this morning was dressed in a toxic shade of purple only found in cereal and candy, her hair colored to match, but as usual, her smile was bright and ready. 

“Hey Marianne, I’ll have your coffee ready in a moment.” Cherry smiled, picked up a cup, and wrote Marianne’s name on it. Her gaze was on writing Marianne’s name as she said more quietly for only Marianne’s ears. 

“You should go over there and save the poor man.” 

Marianne followed Cherry’s gaze to where Bog and the woman were still talking in tense, heated whispers. 

“Save him from what?” Marianne asked with no real enthusiasm. 

“From that woman. They’ve been arguing since she arrived, and believe me, he didn’t look happy to see her.” Cherry cringed. 

Marianne frowned, unsure. “Really?” 

Cherry nodded, took a step to the side, and motioned at Brad to take her place at the register. Brad, a young college kid, did so without a word of complaint, accustomed to Cherry needing to step away and talk to customers. 

“Yeah, he was in here sipping his coffee and--if you ask me--waiting for you judging by the way he kept looking out the window AND he placed an order for your coffee along with his...but yeah, he saw her and his whole demeanor changed. His back stiffened and hell, he looked horrified. She strolled in here like she owned the fucking place, ordered coffee from her seat without getting in line like everyone else. Gave me an imperious wave and she just said her order out loud and expected me to jump. Bitch.” Cherry made a face. “Anyway, yeah, he was not happy to see her. They’ve been arguing back and forth like that for a good twenty minutes. You should save him.” Cherry nodded at Marianne, her gaze intense. 

“But...but how? And are you even sure? I mean, maybe he and his girlfriend are just finishing a fight from earlier?” Marianne asked softly. “That’s not something an outsider should get into.” 

Cherry lifted her dark brown eyebrow at Marianne, giving her the universal look of “Are you crazy?” 

The barista sighed. “Look, just get your coffee and I’ll give you some coffee cake. Just pretend to be his girlfriend.” 

Marianne frowned. “I don’t know...and I have to get to work...” 

Cherry sighed. “Marianne, call in sick.” 

“I’ve never called in sick!” Marianne looked shocked. 

“Well then, they should let you have it without being a bitch about it, right? And you’ve probably got all kinds of sick time saved up.” Cherry gave her a stern look followed by a softer expression. “Trust me Marianne.” 

Marianne met Cherry’s eyes. Cherry was sweet, kind, and while they didn’t have a real friendship outside of Marianne’s morning coffee orders, Marianne realized Cherry was one of her only real relationships outside of Mrs. Katz and that she actually did trust Cherry more than she realized. 

“Okay,” Marianne said, though she still wanted to crawl into a hole. “I’ll do it.” 

Cherry smiled. “Good. Give me just a minute to get your coffee and the cake.” 

Cherry hurried off with a bright smile on her lips while Marianne felt she had just agreed to run naked through the streets. 

* 

A minute later, having lied to her boss about being sick, armed with coffee in one hand and a plate with two slices of coffee cake, Marianne walked over to where Bog and the mystery woman were still arguing in hushed voices. Marianne put on her best smile as she walked up to stand at Bog’s elbow. 

“Sorry I’m late honey.” 

The woman looked up at Marianne with narrowed eyes. If looks could kill, Marianne would have felt a stab right through her heart. Bog, on the other hand, smiled. 

“There you are! I was wondering when I saw you come in why you didn’t come straight over to me,” Bog said, his voice warm and soothing. (And Marianne noted with glee, it was accented just like Cherry had said!) He stood up, stepped aside to pull a chair out for her, the back of which faced the window. 

Marianne scooted past him and to her complete surprise, Bog kissed her on the cheek. It took every bit of high school drama class teaching not to react except to smile as she took her seat under the intense--and murderous--gaze of the other woman. 

Bog pushed her chair in for her once she was seated before he turned to the other woman at the table. “This is Marianne, my girlfriend--Marianne…this is an old…” He stopped and seemed to reluctantly say. “Friend. Olivia, this is Marianne.” 

Marianne had clenched her teeth not to make any exclamation of surprise when Bog said her name. How did he know her name? Did he ask Cherry? He asked Cherry! Oh my god, he asked about her name. Of course, he had bought her coffee, but he had gone that extra step to ask her name AND he remembered it! 

Marianne stopped herself from looking silly, only barely, as she smiled at the other woman and put her hand out to her. “Hi Olivia, a pleasure to met you.” 

Olivia narrowed her eyes only slightly, shifting her expression from murderous to diabolical, as she took Marianne’s hand. 

What had she gotten herself into? Marianne thought as she took the other woman’s hand and gave her best professional sales clerk smile.


	2. First Date

“Bog, you didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone.” The voice of the woman named Olivia practically dripped with venom as she shook Marianne’s hand, though with a little too much force. Marianne didn’t react, kept her smile plastered on her face. Years of working retail had taught her how to fake a smile and a genial attitude in the face of some of the worst uber snotty customers. When one dealt with rich city wives with more money than sense most of the time, one learned to play the happy game really quick. Marianne was an expert at faking her smile and pleasant demeanor. Her mother used to say to let unpleasantness go, like water off a duck’s back. 

As Marianne released Olivia’s hand, she thought about how she had read the term venom used to describe someone’s voice in a novel before, but she’d never really been quite sure how that would sound in reality. Now she knew, because this woman’s voice was filled with venom so much so Marianne could feel herself becoming nauseous just as if she had been bitten by a venomous snake. Marianne could tell that this woman was probably the type who liked to be mean, who took pleasure in demeaning people, and was one of those people who always thought they were better than everyone else. Yeah, Marianne had dealt with these types of women and men, at work, and all-too often. Oh, the lessons of retail she thought. 

Bog smiled at Marianne. His smile was not just attractive, but whatever poison Olivia had tried to inject Marianne with from her voice was quickly negated by Bog’s smile, his blue sparkling eyes, and his charming, accented voice. He surprised Marianne when he picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles while staring into her eyes like he really was in love with her! Swoon! Marianne thought with a gleeful, silent inward giggle. 

Bog pressed his lips to her hand and said to Olivia without looking at her. “Last time I checked Olivia, my personal life was not something I needed to report on--especially not to you.” He kept a gentle hold on Marianne’s hand while turning to look at Olivia. “You are no longer part of my life Olivia. I’ve moved on and you would be wise to do the same thing.” 

Olivia narrowed her brown eyes at Bog. This woman possessed an arsenal of weapons: venom dripping voice and a gaze like daggers, a world class bitch Marianne thought, like Heather Chandler from the movie Heathers or Regina George from Mean Girls. 

Olivia looked between them, her nose wrinkled with disgust. Bog continued to hold Marianne’s hand next to his lips, giving Olivia an innocent look, but Marianne could see the challenge in Bog’s eyes. She didn’t know the man, but she recognized a challenge when she saw one. 

After a few tense seconds of Olivia glaring at them, she stood up. “This conversation isn’t over, Bog King.” 

Bog frowned with a narrowing of his eyes at Olivia and Marianne felt his fingers tighten on her hand ever so slightly. “Yes, it is Olivia. I have nothing further to say to you. There will not be another conversation. I only spoke with you this time to be polite. That won’t happen again.” 

Olivia huffed and Marianne blinked in surprise. The woman actually huffed! Olivia turned around and stomped out of the shop, her back rigid and her head held high, her heels clicking on the floor. A couple coming into the coffee shop at the same time as Olivia was leaving had to step away from each other to get out of her way when Olivia didn’t stop for them, charging through the doors like a bull. 

Bog and Marianne watched in silence as the woman left. Once she was out the door, they both saw her through the window stop on the curb and hail a taxi. (Marianne was amazed with how quickly she got a cab to stop for her. The few times she had felt she could afford a cab, Marianne had to wait forever before one stopped. She guessed Olivia was one of those people for whom things just happened for them. Marianne had already thought it earlier in a vague sort of way, but this time she actually thought the word: bitch.) They watched as Olivia disappeared inside the cab. It wasn’t until the cab was out of sight that Marianne felt Bog completely relax and release her hand. 

“Thank you. I really cannae thank you enough for saving me.” Bog smiled shyly at her. 

Marianne blushed. “I’m glad I could help. I wasn’t sure, but you looked very unhappy.” 

Bog nodded with a slight roll of his eyes. “Ex evil girlfriend.” 

Marianne giggled softly. “Evil exes.” 

Bog smiled. “Scott Pilgrim correct?” 

Marianne smiled at him with a soft laugh. “Yes.” 

Bog put his hand out to her. “I’m Bog King.” 

“Marianne Summerfield.” Marianne took his hand and they shook, both of them laughing and both of them blushing. 

Bog released her hand and glanced at the cake. “You brought coffee cake. If you hadn’t already saved me I might be in love with you just for the cake.” He cringed. “Okay, sorry--that sounded really stupid.” 

Marianne laughed. “No it didn’t, it’s coffee cake. If you can’t fall in love with someone because they brought you coffee cake, then what can you fall in love over?” 

They both laughed. Bog moved the cake between them. “Well, sharing a piece of cake is also a good way to get to know someone.” 

Marianne smiled. “You know you don’t have to talk to me just because…” 

Bog tsked at her. “Of course I do, but that’s not the only reason. I’ve seen you come in here before, in the mornings to get your coffee on your way to work.” Bog’s shimmering bright blue eyes widened. “I mean, I wasn’t stalking you; I just happened to be here and noticed…” 

Marianne giggled and took a sip of her coffee. “I know...I mean, I didn’t know you noticed me, but I noticed you in an “I’m not stalking you” sorta way. I mean, yeah. I come in here every morning on my way to work for coffee and saw you. You’re kinda hard not to notice.” Marianne made a face when Bog frowned and said softly. “I stand out like a sore thumb, I know.” 

Marianne quickly shook her head. “No no, I mean, yeah you do, but you’re so striking, slender, tall, and you dress nice...and you’re handsome...” She blushed and stared down at her coffee. 

“You know? I think I should just shut up before I embarrass myself further.” 

Bog’s cheeks colored a soft shade of red as a small smile tugged at his lips. “You think I’m handsome?” 

Marianne glanced up at him and for the first time realized that Bog King must not see himself as attractive. By his expression and the tone of his voice, he thought the idea of him being handsome was strange. 

Marianne nodded. “Yes, I think you’re very handsome if it's not too bold of me to say that.” 

Bog glanced up at her, their eyes meeting as he said in a soft tone. “I think you are beautiful. I thought that the moment you walked through the doors. I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman--and I’ve done my share of traveling.” 

Marianne swallowed as her cheeks burned with her blush. She quickly glanced away from the intensity of his blue eyes and whispered. “Thank you.” 

Bog smiled moving his coffee cup in a circle. “Thank you too.” 

An awkward silence descended for a few heartbeats, but Bog broke it before the span of silence became insurmountable by asking. “So, where do you work, Marianne Summerfield?” 

Marianne took a sip of her coffee letting the warm caffeine calm her nerves. She did like how he said her name. “I work at the cosmetic counter at Rachel’s of New York.” She shrugged with an uncomfortable smile. “So, ah, yeah I just work retail.” 

Bog frowned. “Why do you say you ‘just work retail?’ There’s nothing wrong with a retail job.” He smiled at her. “So you do makeup?” 

Marianne smiled back at him and nodded. “Yeah, I sell makeup, perfume, and I do make up, like for brides or things like that.” She moved her coffee cup around in her hands. “I like it mostly. I feel like I’m sort of an artist--if that doesn’t sound too pretentious.” 

“It doesn’t sound pretentious at all. You are. Not all artists work with paint or words.” He smiled at her. 

Marianne looked up. “So, your turn. What do you do?” 

Bog smiled as he looked down at his cup. “I do a little bit of this and that, play a little bit of music.” He moved his hand back and forth. “And I do a little engineering, work on cars here and there...nothing big.” 

Marianne laughed softly. “Does this and that make good money?” 

Bog nodded. “Sometimes. I mostly work within my family business. My father and mother own some real estate, run a school for gifted children…” 

“Oh! Like the Charles Xavier school?” Marianne blurted out, then cringed. “God, ah, sorry...wow you must think I’m the biggest nerd…” She shook her head. “I read a lot of comic books...and I do conventions so…” 

Bog lifted an eyebrow (much like Spock, Marianne noted) with a confused expression on his face. “Do conventions?” 

Marianne blushed a brighter shade of red. She was thinking she had blushed herself out, but apparently there were always more ways to be embarrassed when it came to herself. She could be an endless font of embarrassment, she thought. Marianne swallowed, rubbing the pad of her index finger against the table. “Yeah, ah...I don’t know how much you know about conventions, like say Comic Con, but I’m one of the girls who dresses up like certain characters to say, promote a video game or a cartoon show, or like a superhero show.” She took a deep breath. Might as well get it over with--in for a penny in for pound of nerdy embarrassment. “These places hire me to dress up and just hang around, letting people take pictures of me, that sort of thing…” She shrugged, still looking down at the table’s surface. “I sometimes go without being paid too. I like to dress up…”Marianne closed her eyes with a wince. “Oh god,” she thought, “I sound like a complete nerd. He’s going to excuse himself and run away any minute now…” 

She looked up, ready to see that look of either disgust or confusion only to see Bog staring at her with an expression of...she had no idea…but he looked a little shocked. 

Marianne thought she had blown it, right here, right now. Game over, man. It was clear by the way he held himself, the way he dressed, that Bog had class, and classy guys didn’t… 

“I love conventions!” Bog said with excitement. “I’m a huge Marvel and DC comics fan and I like to think I’m pretty good at shooter games, but I also like a good RPG…” He smiled. “And don’t get me started on Dungeons and Dragons! Or Star Trek or Star Wars. You’re a cosplayer...wow.” He shook his head in pleased amazement before he added. “I haven’t been to a convention in ages.” Marianne smiled and barreled on. She had embarrassed herself enough this morning that she thought: what was one more? She might as well ask. “There is going to be one downtown in a couple of weeks. If you like, I can get you tickets...I mean, I’m going to be dressing up as a Rey from The Last Jedi, and whoever I’m working for usually gives me a couple of tickets for friends...which I usually don’t use because I don’t really have any friends that are into conventions. So, if you like…” 

Bog smiled at her, his grin lopsided as he said softly. “I would love to go.” 

Marianne blinked, then whispered. “Did you just say you would love to go?” 

Bog nodded. “I would. The last convention I went to was before my…” He stopped for a beat before he finished his sentence. “Before I became too busy with work.” He grinned, glancing down at his coffee cup. He held the cup between his fingers, holding it tightly enough that his knuckles were beginning to turn white. All he could hear was his heartbeat hammering loud enough that Bog was surprised that Marianne didn’t hear the sound of it like a drum thudding against his sternum. He looked from the cup back up at her as he asked in a quiet tone, almost whispering as if he didn’t quite want her to hear him. 

“Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?” 

Marianne could see that his grip on his coffee cup was tight, tight enough that the cup squeaked in protest, and when he looked up at her, his blue eyes meeting her brown ones, she could see the nervousness in his expression, the tightness around his mouth, the hesitation in his gaze. Bog gave Marianne the impression that asking her out took a lot of courage on his part, that he was nervous. Nervous? A guy like this? Handsome, confident, and sexy. Nervous around her? Which was completely crazy she thought, because she knew he could probably ask any woman here out on a date and they would climb all over themselves to say yes. He was gorgeous! Yet, he was asking her out and he seemed nervous?! 

Marianne pressed her lips together in a smile. Her own nervousness made her heart flutter. “Did you just ask me on a date?” She wanted to make sure she had heard him correctly and not put the words she wanted to hear in his mouth because she was nervous and not listening to him correctly. 

Bog’s cheeks turned red. “Yes, I was thinking since you were just playing my pretend girlfriend that maybe...I...could change that into...real girlfriend…” He winced at his words. “I mean...not girlfriend...one date doesn’t a girlfriend make. I--I wanted to ask you out the first morning I saw you....” Bog frowned. This was getting worse by the moment, but he continued. “If you don’t want to go out for dinner, I won't be upset. No obligation. I completely understand…” Bog spoke quickly without pause, his nervousness spilling over as he rushed to get the words out before he couldn’t speak at all; not only to make her feel better for saying no, but to create a shield of words to protect himself from her rejection. He spoke quickly enough her rejection wouldn’t sting. At least that was the theory he was working with. 

Marianne reached out and laid her hand on his forearm to stop him. Bog looked into her eyes. His long black hair had come loose and fell against his cheeks. He looked so nervous, maybe even a little scared. All she wanted to do was let him know it was all right. 

She smiled as she gave his arm a squeeze. “I would love to go out to dinner with you.” 

Bog blinked in surprise. “Really?” 

Marianne giggled softly. “Yes, really.” 

“So, ah, what time do you get off work tomorrow? I could pick you up and we could go to dinner from there--if that’s all right?” Bog asked, all smiles now. His eyes literally twinkled she noticed. 

“I get off at six and that would be perfect.” Marianne smiled, biting her bottom lip. 

Bog grinned. “Well, I need to get going, but...I’ll see you in the morning here, then for dinner. Oh-- and here.” He pulled his wallet out, opened it up and handed a card to her, an actually calling card! Marianne took the card and read the words that were embossed on the card in black ink: 

Bog Black King 

Engineer 

332-555-8989 

Marianne looked up as Bog stood. Wow, she thought. She had known he was tall, but when he stood to his full height, he was really impressive, far taller than she had thought he was. Combining that with his eyes, accent, and face--inwardly she swooned as he spoke. 

“I’m looking forward to tomorrow, Marianne Summerfield,” Bog said with a soft smile. 

Marianne grinned. “Me too--Bog King.” 

He blushed and gave her a wave as he walked out of the coffee shop. Marianne watched him as he walked past the window, waving at her again before his long legs took him down the sidewalk and he disappeared. 

Marianne felt giddy. She had a date! And not just any date, but a date with tall, dark, and handsome man! She turned in her seat to look back at Cherry, holding the card up and waved it about. 

“I got his number!” she yelled, then flush crimson as everyone in the shop turned to look at her. Then, to her complete surprise, everyone clapped. 

Cherry giggled. “That’s my girl!!” 

* 

Work went by like a daydream that day. (She had gone in late instead of calling in.) 

She felt a little swoony from her interaction with Bog King. So sue me, Marianne thought, she hadn’t been on a date in ages and Bog was just so...gorgeous! 

But by the next morning, however, panic had settled in. What was she going to wear??! And whatever it was, she was going to have to bring it with her and change at work! Marianne stood in front of her closet wearing only her panties and bra and staring at her second hand treasures, all of which seemed suddenly less than good enough to wear on a date with Bog King. 

After much deliberation with herself, she finally settled on a long-sleeved green ruffled dress that she had found discounted at Rachel’s to a price she could afford, along with one of her prize finds--a pair of black leather, over the knee, heeled boots that she had found at a high end discount store. They had been 75% percent off--still pricey even with the discount--but they had been too beautiful to pass up. She grabbed a garment bag, placed the dress inside, with the boots over the hanger, and zipped it all up. She dressed for work, picking out a creme colored layered, ruffled blouse, black leggings and ankle boots. 

* 

When she got off the bus that morning, she resisted the urge to run to the coffee shop, but it was difficult! She was excited to see Bog this morning and excited for tonight, but when she arrived, he wasn’t sitting in his usual spot. Marianne frowned, feeling a heavy stone drop into her stomach. When she walked into the coffee shop, she didn’t see him anywhere, and her face fell. She made her way to the counter to order her regular morning coffee. Cherry was there wearing a lime green knit cap and tie dye t-shirt, waiting for her with a smirk on her lips. When Marianne stepped to the counter, Cherry started to giggle. 

“Man, who stole your lollipop?” Cherry asked. 

Marianne shrugged. “Sorry, just...I thought Bog was going to be here this morning.” 

Cherry giggled again. “Cheer up. He was, but he had to be somewhere, so he paid for your coffee for the rest of the week and he left you this.” Cherry pulled out a folded piece of paper from her apron pocket and handed it to Marianne. 

She unfolded it and saw the handwriting, elegant and long, in cursive. The note read: 

Looking forward to tonight! I hope you have a great day at work. Hope you don’t mind me paying for your coffee this week, just didn’t want you to have to worry about your daily jolt of caffeine. 

See you this evening, 

Bog. 

Marianne grinned, refolded the note, and slipped it into her purse. 

Cherry handed her the coffee. “So, you two going out, eh?” 

Marianne blushed. “Yeah, he’s taking me to dinner after work.” 

Cherry grinned. “Good, you deserve to have an attractive man buying you food.” 

Marianne laughed. “Thanks.” 

“You have fun tonight, but don’t give it to him too soon--make him work for it! Then give it to him really good! Make sure he can’t walk!” Cherry added with a mischievous grin that made Marianne blush brighter, but she laughed as she rushed out and headed to work. 

* 

Work seemed to drag as if the universe was plotting against her to make her wait forever for her date. Or maybe she was just so excited that time seemed to slow down? Either way, the day dragged forever. The worst part was with the makeup counter not being especially busy today, there just wasn’t a lot to do. The counter was so slow that it had gotten to the point that she and her partner today, Evelyn, were searching for things to do. They had cleaned everything, twice, maybe three times, Marianne couldn’t be sure. They had rearranged the displays four times, tried all the perfume, restocked the shelves and had vacuumed, four times. By the time it was a quarter to six, Marianne was ready to climb the walls. Being nervous all day hadn’t helped either; being bored and nervous were not a fun combination, but when it was a quarter ‘til six, Marianne turned to Evelyn and put on her best pleading look. 

“Do you mind if I leave a little early? I have a date at six and I want to change,” Marianne asked with big eyes and a hopeful smile. 

Evelyn was a manager for the cosmetic area. She was a pretty woman, a few years older than Marianne, with strawberry blonde curls and a body like Marilyn Monroe, but on a five foot four inch frame. She also had huge green eyes and plump lips that made men go crazy. Marianne had seen it happen when a guy was walking past their counter and got a good look at Evelyn. She had seen many a man--and a few women--run into one of the displays while staring at Evelyn. 

Evelyn blinked as if she hadn’t understood what Marianne had said, then asked softly, her tone incredulous. “You have a date?” 

Marianne frowned looking slightly offended. “Well don’t act so surprised,” she muttered. 

Evelyn threw her hands out to stop Marianne from taking what she had said the wrong way. “No--I mean YES! You have a date! I was beginning to wonder if you were turning into a cat lady or something. You’ve never mentioned dating or having a boyfriend, or girlfriend…” Evelyn shrugged. “I didn’t know if it was by choice or what.” 

Marianne made a face. “Yeah, well I haven’t been on a date in a really long time. Haven’t really met anyone interesting until now.” 

Evelyn smiled. “Oh, I understand that. Sometimes I have dry spells too. So, can I ask what his name is?” 

Marianne blushed. “Bog King. He’s tall, really tall, with long black hair and these incredible blue eyes…” 

Evelyn smirked. “Ooh, I see. Well, you go right ahead and get ready. Want me to do your makeup?” 

Marianne looked surprised. “Would you?” 

“Sure…” She motioned at the store. “I’m so, so busy, but I’ll make room.” 

Marianne laughed. “Thanks, I’ll be right back.” 

Evelyn waved her away. “Go on.” 

* 

Marianne quickly changed, using a rag at the sink in the employee lounge to give herself a quick rub off as well as removing her daytime makeup, before she changed into her green dress in the ladies bathroom. She brushed her hair, giving it a quick spritz (thank god for shorter hair! Always easy to style, she thought with a grin.) She sprayed herself with some vanilla body spray, then slipped on her boots before she headed out, stuffing her work clothes in her employee locker to take home at a later date. 

When she hurried out to Evelyn, the other woman whistled. “Wow, look at you!” 

Marianne blushed, looking down at her attire. “You think this is a good date outfit?” 

Evelyn nodded. “With those boots, you could be wearing a sack. They make your legs look like they go on forever!” 

Marianne giggled. “Thanks.” 

“All right, sit down, and let’s get your face on.” Evelyn patted the makeup chair. 

Marianne hurried over and flopped down, ready to let Evelyn work some magic. 

* 

Bog King walked into the department store with a look around. He hadn’t been in a store in ages, usually ordering what he needed online to have it delivered to his front door. He felt a little exposed coming to the store. The coffee shop had been as far as he was willing to venture right now, but for this woman he had just met, Bog found himself willing to push the limits of his comfort zone. 

He didn’t notice the looks he received as he walked through the department store looking for the makeup counter. Bog was dressed in a dark blue suit that almost looked black with a black dress shirt and a dark, evergreen tie. He wore a pair of leather, pointed toed dress shoes. He had pulled his hair back into a tail instead of in the bun he had been prone to wearing it in lately. He had thought about cutting his hair, but decided he didn’t have the energy to go to a barber just yet, but he had shaved, trimming his beard down further. Again, he didn’t quite have the energy yet to shave. And shaving the facial hair off would leave him exposed in a way he didn’t feel comfortable with...not yet, anyway. Baby steps, he thought. 

He walked at a brisk pace, but stopped short when he saw Marianne. 

She was just finished having her makeup done by an attractive blonde woman, but he barely saw the other woman when his eyes landed on Marianne. 

She stood up and was brushing herself off. She looked beautiful, but beautiful seemed like such a pale word to describe her by. She looked up and saw him, and the smile on her face made his heart skip a beat. 

* 

Marianne blushed when she saw Bog and she waved. “Hi! Just let me get my purse and jacket.” 

Evelyn blinked when she saw Bog. “Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said he was tall,” she said low enough that only Marianne could hear her. 

Marianne giggled and hurried behind the counter to grab her purse and jacket. “And he has an accent,” she whispered. “Scottish I think.” 

Evelyn looked like Marianne had smacked her. “Ah, does he have a brother?” 

Marianne laughed. “I’ll find out.” 

Evelyn nodded. “You better, I want one!” 

Marianne hurried over to Bog. 

Bog smiled taking her jacket from where she had tossed it over her arm. “Allow me.” 

Marianne smiled, pressing her teeth into her bottom lip as she let him help her into her jacket, a black tailored looking jacket that fell to mid thigh (another find at a high end resale shop.) 

“Ready?” he asked with a smile, putting his arm out for her to wrap her arm around. 

“Yes.” Marianne said taking his arm, looking back over her shoulder at Evelyn before Bog escorted her out of the store. 

“Sorry I wasn’t there this morning. A small family crisis, nothing big, but I had to be there in person to take care of it,” Bog said as he walked farther down the sidewalk. 

“Oh, no problem. I understand completely,” Marianne said as they walked. “Ah, may I ask where we are going?” They had turned into a parking garage and were walking along the lanes of parked cars, which surprised her. No one she knew owned a car that they drove in the city. 

Bog grinned at her. “I got us a table at The Electric Horse.” 

Marianne was proud of herself when she didn’t trip over her own feet. The Electric Horse was one of those restaurants where you couldn’t get in without a reservation and you couldn't get those for at least six months from when you made the reservation. It was not someplace you just called up and got a table. And it was fantastically expensive! She had looked up the menu once and saw there had been no prices listed--which meant if you had to ask the price, you couldn’t afford it! 

Marianne was about to say something about the price, about how she didn’t think she could go dutch at a place like that. Damn, even in some of her best clothing, she wasn’t dressed for a place like that! Marianne took a breath, ready to embarrass herself yet again when she said how she couldn’t afford a place like that and she didn’t want him to feel he had to pay for her, especially at such an expensive restaurant when Bog stopped. “Here we are.” 

Marianne swallowed hard. The car wasn’t just a car, she noted as she tried to keep her eyes from bugging. It was a Jaguar F-type Coupe. The only reason she knew what kind of car it was, was because her father liked cars. She grew up knowing the make and models of all sorts of cars. She wasn’t into the mechanical aspect, knowing their specs, but she knew car types on sight and this was a seventy thousand plus dollar car. 

Marianne blurted out without thinking. “Are you a mobster?” 

Bog laughed as he walked her around the sleek, black car to the passenger door. “No, I promise I’m not a gangster. I have a little money from my engineering work and an inheritance from my parents.” 

Marianne turned to look at him instead of getting into the car. “Can I ask you a question?” 

Bog nodded. “Of course.” 

“Is this some sort of prank? Like, did you make a bet with one of your rich friends to take out a poor girl or something?” Marianne asked with seriousness. 

Bog looked startled. “What? That’s awful? Why would I do that?” 

Marianne frowned. “I don't know, but I’m not into being someone's charity case.” 

Bog frowned and took Marianne’s hands in his own while looking her directly in the eyes. “I promise you: this is no trick. I like you and I want to take you out for dinner, if you’ll let me.” 

Marianne slid her teeth across her bottom lip in thought. “You promise this isn’t some game?” 

Bog looked straight into her eyes, still holding her hands, and gave her hands a gentle squeeze. His gaze was serious. “Marianne, this isn’t a game. I’m not that type of person. I promise you. I just want to take you to dinner to a nice place, maybe impress you...” He smiled. “...with the hope that you like my company enough to go to another date with me.” 

Marianne smiled at him. “Another date?” 

Bog grinned. “Premature perhaps, on my part. I’m hoping, but you don't have to answer now. We’ll see how this one goes and if you don't totally hate me by the end of the night, I’ll ask again. Okay?” 

Marianne giggled. “Okay, but The Electric Horse? That place is really expensive and...” She flushed. “I can’t really afford a place like that.” 

Bog frowned rubbing her knuckles with his thumbs. “I asked you out, so I don’t expect you to pay for yourself. This is my treat, but...hm.” He pursed his lips. “How about we go someplace else? I know this diner that has a great burger…” He smiled at her and tilted his head. 

Marianne laughed. “I do like a good burger.” 

Bog grinned with a lift of one eyebrow. “Well, then I have a treat for you!” 

Marianne laughed and slipped into the car, controlling her urge to moan when she sank into the seat. They were real leather! 

Bog came around the car and slipped into the driver's seat, giving her a smile before he turned the engine on, which sang like a dream, and pulled out of the parking space. 

Bog smiled at her as he pulled them out into traffic. 

Marianne had a feeling she was going to be going on that second date. 

* 

The diner, called The JailHouse, was a small diner located on the corner of a large building that was a part of the older half of the city. The diner had the blue and red neon sign that made her think of the 1950’s. Bog parked his car along the side, the vehicle easily seen from the window of the diner. (She noticed several people turning to look at the car as they got out.) Bog offered his hand and Marianne took it, and together they walked into the diner holding hands. Marianne’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but she felt happy. On the way here they had talked a little about the fact that he really was from Scotland. He had come to the states for college and ended up staying, going home once or twice a year for the holidays or for the summer. His parents lived mostly in Scotland, but had a place here in the city too. They were currently stateside, taking care of some business. 

Marianne had told Bog about her family, how she was adopted and grew up on a farm with her little sister. She usually went home for the holidays to Kansas, to which Bog had said. “Like Superman!” That had made Marianne laugh, but a little part of her panicked for a moment. When she had figured out she had abilities, she had wondered for the longest time if she was an alien, but now she knew that wasn’t true--couldn’t be true. She might be closer to one of the X-men than an alien, but she still worried, still felt like a weirdo. She had felt a frown start to form, but quickly dispelled her worry. She wasn’t using her powers anymore. That was part of what moving to the city had been about, starting a life and being too busy to even think about her weirdness...well, except for the other day with the bus, but she was going to make sure that never happened again. Normal was nice, sometimes boring, but nice and safe. 

Marianne thought the inside of the diner was pleasant, with the old black and white checkered tile flooring, light blue walls, and booths lining the large windows that looked out onto the street. She saw a counter with bar stools in shiny, polished metal with blue seats near a glass display case which was next to the register that held a large selection of pies. The Penguins “Earth Angel” was playing when they walked in and the smell of burgers and fries filled the air. 

Marianne grinned. “Wow! Why have I never heard of this place?” 

Bog smiled as he helped her out of her jacket.. “One of New York’s best kept secrets.” 

A young woman with fire engine red hair with the classic bangs and ponytail that made Marianne instantly think Rockabilly came over to them wearing an old fashioned waitress outfit, a baby blue collared dress with an apron around her hips and two menus under her arm. “Two?” she asked with a smile on her red painted lips. 

Bog nodded. “Yes.” 

The woman glanced up and laughed. “God, Bog? I haven’t seen you in ages! I was beginning to think you were dead or moved! Love the hair! Last time I saw you, it was so short!” 

Bog smiled a little. “Hey Monica. It’s been a rough year--been busy.” 

“Well, it’s nice to see you back--and with a girl.” Monica smiled at Marianne. “I’m Monica.” 

Marianne smiled in return. “Marianne.” 

“Well, let’s get you two seated. I’ll let Brutus know you’re here. I know he was beginning to worry about you too.” Monica led them to a corner booth, laying down plastic menus in front of them. “So what can I get you to drink?” 

Bog glanced at Marianne. “Go ahead.” 

Marianne smiled, looking over the drinks. “I’ll have a vanilla coke.” 

Bog grinned. “Same.” 

“Okay, well you two look over the menu and I'll be back with your drinks, but I’m gonna guess it's the usual for you Bog?” Monica asked. 

Bog laughed. “Probably.” 

The waitress smiled and walked off to get their drinks. 

“I guess you’ve been here a lot?” Marianne asked. 

Bog nodded. “Yeah. Like I said, they have the best burgers.” 

They had just begun to look over their menu when a large, bald man wearing a brown t-shirt, jeans, and a grease stained apron came over to their table. 

“Bog King, I was beginning to think you were dead.” 

They both looked up and Bog smiled. “Sorry Brutus, not yet.” 

Bog put his hand out, but Brutus took his offered hand and yanked Bog out of the booth and into an embrace. “Boy, you scared me. After that accident…” 

Bog quickly cut him off. “Sorry I haven’t been around a lot.” 

Brutus let him go. “Missed you at the gym, and here too, but glad to see you’re back, glad you’re all right.” The big man patted Bog hard on the back before turning his attention to Marianne. “So, who's your pretty lady friend?” 

“Marianne--this is Brutus, owner and cook of this fine establishment,” Bog said with a smile as he took his seat again. 

Brutus put his hand out to Marianne. She took his offered hand and the big man’s hand encompassed her entire hand. “Marianne, that’s a damn pretty name for a damn pretty girl.” 

Marianne blushed. “Thank you.” 

Brutus laughed. “Oh, you are pretty. Good job, Bog.” The cook winked at Bog. “Nice to see you with someone after that horrible Olivia. It’s been long enough I can call her horrible, right?” 

Bog nodded. “Yes you can. And that’s being nice.” 

Brutus looked at Marianne. “His last girlfriend was a piece of work.” He leaned close. “I don’t like to say the word, but that woman was a prime bitch.” 

Marianne giggled with a grimace. “I’ve met her and I believe it.” 

Bog smiled. “Marianne saved me from Olivia. That’s how we met, actually.” 

Brutus grinned. “Well, more points in your favor Marianne. Bog needs a good woman, the boy spends too much time alone now.” 

Bog blushed and covered his face with one hand. “Brutus…” 

“Now, why don’t I set the two of you up with a couple of a grand street burgers. That sound good?” Brutus asked with a grin at the two of them. 

Bog glanced at Marianne. “The grand street has everything on it: pickle, lettuce, mayo, ketchup, mustard, bacon, cheese, onions, with a ground angus burger.” 

Marianne smiled. “Hold the pickle and you got it.” 

Brutus nodded. “Ya want fries or onion rings or both?” 

Bog looked at Marianne, quirking a brow at her. She responded with a smile, so Bog said. “Both. Double helping too.” 

Brutus laughed. “I’ll add some chocolate malts for free. I’ll get right on that, you two have a nice time, and I’m really happy to see you again Bog. Don’t stay away so long, huh?” 

Brutus walked off. Marianne noted that for such a big--and muscled--man, he moved quietly. 

Bog grinned as he shook his head. “Brutus is a really nice guy. I used to work out at his gym.” 

Marianne nodded. She wanted to ask about the accident that Brutus mentioned, but knew that would be overstepping, at least for a first date conversation. Instead she said. “He seems nice.” 

“Oh he is, a big sweetheart,” Bog replied. 

Marianne smiled at him. She loved the fact that he had brought her here, clearly a place that Bog had a deep attachment to. It was like he was sharing something personal with her and that made her feel special. 

* 

After that they ate and talked, talked about high school, their shared love of all things nerdy, argued about comics, and laughed about video games and movies. As they were finishing off their malts (Bog having already settled the bill), Bog asked. “Would you like to go for a walk? There is a small park just across the street. I thought after a walk, if you were interested, there is a new gallery exhibit opening tonight at a small gallery in Greenwich village. They are featuring this new artist that I like, so I thought...” 

Marianne nodded. “I would love to go for a walk to work some of this burger off and yes. I’ve never been to a gallery opening.” 

Bog grinned. “Groovy.” 

Marianne laughed. “Oh no, you’re channeling Bruce Campbell!” 

Bog grinned. “See? I have to keep dating you--you got that reference.” 

Marianne blushed happily. “Well, I suppose I should keep seeing you since you made the reference.” 

Bog laughed, his cheeks red as he stood up and put his hand out to her. Marianne put her hand in his and let Bog lead her out of the diner. 

* 

They held hands as they made their way across the street to the park. The sun had set fully and it was dark, the air chilly. A perfect evening, Marianne thought. 

The park had a few lights that ran along an old brick path to give it an old world quality Marianne saw, as Bog led her onto the path. The park was filled with fallen leaves, though most of the trees still held onto their colorful leaves. Winter was approaching fast and before she knew it, Marianne knew there would be snow. She loved the snow. In this park, holding Bog’s hand in the snow would be a scene right out of a romantic movie. The park was quiet and the two of them walked in comfortable silence, holding hands, simply enjoying being together. 

She had never enjoyed someone’s company the way she did Bog’s. He wasn’t just handsome and sexy, he was just as big a nerd as she was, which was fantastic! She had never found anyone she could talk to about all the things she loved like she could Bog. In the short time she had known him, she had found she shared more in common with him than anyone she had ever met. 

Bog smiled over at her as they swung their hands between them. “So, I mean I know our date isn’t over yet, but if I asked you out again for tomorrow night, would you say yes? Would that be too soon?” 

Marianne giggled. “Mm, I think if you asked me, I would definitely say yes.” 

Bog grinned at her sideways. A strand of his hair had fallen forward, having come loose from his tail as he turned under one of the lights and took her other hand. 

“Marianne, would you go on a second date with me?” Bog smiled softly, his eyes catching the light in a way that made her heart skip a beat. 

“Aww, now ain’t that sweet?” A drunken voice came out of the shadows. 

Another voice followed. “Y'all are just so lovey dovey, ya gonna kiss her, because if ya don’t I will.” 

This was followed by a third voice. “Look at him guys, one of those long haired freaks who don’t know how to treat a woman. They like poetry and paint, some sissy gay shit like that, they don’t know what a woman really wants, not like we would, eh?” 

Marianne turned and put her back up against Bog’s chest glaring at the three jerks. Bog’s arms came around her protectively which Marianne found comforting as the three drunks came out of the shadows and more fully into the field of light from the lamp post. All three looked to be college age, all of them had blonde hair with a similar looks, short hair, square jaws and broad shoulders wearing the shame sort of athletic jackets (there was clearly not a lot of creative individuality among these guys Marianne thought with a smirk), which immediately made Marianne think college football or another athlete of some sort. They just had that arrogant stance of someone who thought they were untouchable. The three started to laugh, elbowing each other which made Marianne wonder if guys like this had some sort of code that made them act like assholes right out of a movie. They slipped into the stereotypical douche athletic role easily enough, either because Hollywood told them to or because they were exactly that stupid and shallow. Or maybe it was a bit of both, she thought. She was going bet a bit of both, because guys like this appeared in her Kansas high school and now--clearly--in colleges in New York. 

Their heads were already too big, full of their own self-importance, but they were drunk on top of being a trio of fatheads, making them unbearable. Each one had a beer in their hands. One of them held the remains of six pack, which only held two beers, and one of the others held a bottle of something that might have been vodka. They had either been kicked out of a party or had decided that going to the park to get drunk was a fun night. Either way Marianne had seen their type before. 

They all wobbled a bit as the one in a dark blue jacket motioned at Bog. 

“Why don’t you just leave her here with us and go pick up a guy or something?” The guy turned to his friends and laughed as if he had just made the biggest joke. His friends obliged him by laughing. 

Another of the three young men giggled. “Yeah, we’ll get her home safe and sound. We promise.” 

The last of the three, the one carrying the big bottle, took a long pull on the clear liquid which Marianne was sure wasn’t water before he belched and laughed. “We’ll show her a good time first. You wanna come have a drink with a couple of real men?” He leered at her. 

Marianne felt Bog’s arms around her tighten and she was pretty sure she heard him growl, though that might have been her imagination. 

Marianne whispered. “It’s all right Bog--they are going to be leaving.” 

Bog looked down at her, though he didn’t loosen his grip. “Marianne?” 

Marianne hated to use her powers, especially on Bog, but she didn’t want the two of them getting into a fight on their date, not with these losers. So she decided she would use her abilities to scare these douchebags off while at the same time trying to make sure Bog didn’t see her illusion or hear exactly what she said. It was a tough one. She hadn’t used her abilities in a while and not on four people like this in a very long time, but she was confident she could do it. She just had to focus. It was like riding a bike… 

She stepped out of the protection of Bog’s arms. 

Bog looked startled, but he didn’t grab for her. 

The three guys leered and cheered themselves for getting the girl, but Marianne gave them a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. 

“You three want to go home because you see those dogs?” She pointed and the three saw two large doberman pinschers. They were larger than real doberman pinschers; their overall mass wasn’t right and their jaws were a little too big, but because it was an illusion that she was controlling, those that she was affecting shouldn’t notice the lack of accuracy with her illusions. The dogs began snarling, saliva dripping from them mouths as they both showed off teeth that were too big for their mouths. 

Marianne was so focused on her illusions and shielding Bog from the illusion she was creating, that she didn’t realize her abilities were not affecting him. Bog had gone still. He could sense she was doing something, something that had to do with mental abilities; he could feel the brush of something on his mind emanating from Marianne. It felt almost like a caress, an embrace, which told him whatever she was trying to do to him was passive. She wasn’t actively trying to force him to act, so maybe she was trying to make it so he simply wasn’t affected by what she was doing. The feel was more like a protective hug than a forced intrusion. 

Bog had felt it when someone had mental powers before. He knew how an attempted attack felt on his mind, a forced intrusion, a manipulation, or even when someone tried to probe his mind. All mental abilities had a different “feel” to him. He knew nearly all forms of mental attack. Hell, his mother was a damn telepath. She had trained him to understand the feel of a telepath or a telekinetic. His mother’s training, along with his own abilities, made it near impossible for mental powers to work on him. They just couldn’t grab hold of his mind. Which Marianne didn’t know, so did that mean she didn’t know he was like her? She couldn’t...he felt certain of that. He hadn’t known she had abilities until this moment... 

Bog stared at Marianne, watching her and the three thugs, who were clearly reacting to something she was doing. The looks of fear on their faces were almost comical. Bog had to force himself not to react to them by swallowing his laugh. He couldn’t be sure exactly what Marianne was doing, but judging by the way Marianne wasn’t looking at him, her focus on the men in front of her, he didn’t think he wasn’t supposed to be aware of...well...whatever it was she was doing. At least he hoped he wasn't supposed to be reacting, because as scared as the three jerks were acting, whatever it was she was making them see, it was downright terrifying. (He quickly deduced that they had to be seeing something, something Marianne was causing them to see. He just couldn’t be sure how. Suggestion? Manipulation? Illusion? There was such a wide range of mental abilities she could have, anything was possible.) 

Marianne’s voice was soft as she directed her words at the three drunks. “If I were you, I would run.” 

One of the illusionary dogs snarled and leapt at the three men, saliva dripping from its massive jaws. One of the men let out a high pitched scream of horror before he took off at a run. The other dog suddenly gave chase, which set the other two men running, almost screaming high enough in pitch that they could probably break glass. She watched them for a few seconds, knowing the dogs would fade soon, but the men would never know it. 

She smirked and turned to Bog with a smile. (Bog felt her mental hug leave his mind. That was another reason he knew she couldn't know about him. He was certain then that she wasn’t trained or she would have realized her mind trick hadn’t worked on him.) 

Bog frowned at her, looking slightly confused. “What just happened?” 

Marianne shrugged taking his hand in hers. “I don’t know. You know, some people when they are drunk, just act really weird.” 

Bog nodded as they began walking again. “True. So, maybe we should, ah, go ahead to that gallery opening.” 

Marianne nodded. “Sounds good. I don’t really feel like running into anymore drunks.” 

Bog laughed softly studying her as they headed back to his guard. “No, neither do I.” 

He frowned slightly, but quickly replaced it with a smile. He had a feeling he had a whole new world to show Marianne, and soon. He hoped it would be nice for her to realize that she wasn’t alone in the world with her abilities, that there were a lot more out there, just like her. 

Now, he just had to figure out how he was going to tell her that he too had special abilities.


	3. Second Date

It was almost eleven in the evening when Bog pulled up in front of Marianne’s apartment building. After the park, the rest of their date had gone off without a hitch and it was one of the best first dates Marianne ever had. The art show had been fun and interesting with her date. Bog knew so much about art and she found the art--and Bog--fascinating! Marianne had never met a guy who knew so much about art; and not just about the artist they were there to see, but he knew about the history of different styles, he knew different artists, and just...well, she decided, he knew a lot of stuff! She could have listened to him talk all night about...anything. He could have simply read off a menu all night and she would have found it fascinating. With his slight Scottish accent, the way he spoke with his hands, and just his general enthusiasm made listening to him a treat. Marianne bet if he sang that would be fantastic too. 

Bog turned the car off and they both sat there for a moment. Marianen had at first not wanted him to drop her off at her apartment, not because she was worried about him being a weirdo or someone who would stalk her, but because she was embarrassed about where she lived. Bog owned an expensive car. Granted, she realized he might live in a hole in the wall, but she doubted it. 

She lived in a dump...she adjusted her thinking...not really a dump, but to someone with money, it would probably look like a dump. 

Bog hadn’t wanted her to ride the bus at this time of night (even though for the city it was too early for the real weirdies to come out), so she had gone ahead and let him drive her home. 

Bog smiled at her, clearly a little nervous as he asked hopefully. “So, would you like to go out again?” 

Marianne blushed, smiling as she looked down at her hands. “Yes, yes I would.” 

Bog sighed and dropped back against his seat in relief. “Oh good. I was so worried you were going to say no.” 

Marianne giggled softly as she looked back up at him to reassure him. “Why would you think that?” 

Bog shrugged. “I don't know...I guess I know I’m not that much fun or interesting and I’m not really all the attractive…” 

Marianne turned in her seat with an angry frown. “Let me stop you right there buddy. Not interesting? You are the most interesting person I’ve ever met. And boring? Hardly! Not handsome? You are the single most handsome man I’ve ever seen! Whoever made you feel that way in the past needs a knuckle sandwich.” 

Bog blinked at her with a blush on his sharp cheek; then he burst out laughing. “Did you say knuckle sandwich?” 

Marianne giggled. “Yeah I dd. Sorry, my Dad says that all that time…” 

Bog shook his head. “Don’t be sorry, it's adorable.” 

She giggled and felt her cheeks color, but repeated. “I would love to go out again.” 

Bog grinned crookedly. “How would you feel about dinner and then maybe going ice skating?” 

Marianne smiled. “I haven’t been in ages. I would love to.” 

Bog’s smile spread across his face and his blue eyes twinkled in the light from the streetlamp. “Oh good, you know how--maybe you can teach me.” 

Marianne laughed softly. “I would love to.” 

Bog nodded. “How about Friday night? Say around six?” 

Marianne nodded. Friday was two days from now and that was just fine, even though Thursday would have been great too she thought with a warm feeling in her stomach. “Yes that will work.” 

Bog ran his hands nervously along the steering wheel of his car before he asked. “Would you like to have coffee in the morning before you go to work? Unless you’re working the evening shift...” 

Marianne smiled. “I always work the morning shift, just a little arrangement with one of the managers because I have several regular customers…” She motioned with her hand while she spoke. 

Bog smiled, still looking shy as he continued to rub the steering wheel. “So, how would you feel about a standing coffee date in the mornings? You don't have to sit with me or anything like that, we just say hi…” He hoped he wasn’t being pushy. 

Marianne reached over and brushed her fingers against his hand. Bog stopped to look at her again, taking her hand gently as Marianne said in a quiet, pleasant voice. “I would love that.” 

Bog smiled bringing her hand up to his lips to kiss her knuckles. The gesture was sweet, old fashioned, and made her heart flutter. “Very well then. Sleep well Marianne--I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Marianne felt happier than she had been in quite some time. “You sleep well too Bog.” 

She reached over to open the door, reluctantly taking her hand from him as she stepped out of the car. She leaned down to smile at him again. “Good night.” 

Bog grinned. “Good night...I’ll just wait until you’re inside.” 

Marianne nodded. “Thank you.” 

She turned and walked up to her apartment building, pulled open the door that led to the main hall, and turned to wave at Bog who had turned on his car and waved back. She watched him drive away before turning to make her way downstairs to her apartment, a joyous skip in her step. 

* 

Bog arrived home, still smiling after dropping Marianne off. He felt like he was walking on clouds, which he knew sounded hokey as hell even inside his head, but it was true. She was beautiful, funny, smart, cute...he loved her laugh, loved the way she got a little wrinkle between her brows when she was annoyed or starting to be angry. He loved the way her lips were shaped, the way her hair tended to spike in places and the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke about something she cared about. He had found himself composing a song in his head on the way home, something he hadn’t done in ages. He used to write songs all the time, but after Olivia he had lost the will to write music, but Marianne had brought the desire flooding back. 

Then, on top of everything, she possessed powers! He could hardly wait to share with her that he had powers too, but he wanted to take it slow for several reasons. Sometimes when someone grew up thinking they were the only ones in the world with abilities and to find out there were others caused them to pull away. It shattered their world view. He had seen it far too many times with some of the students his parents worked with. Another was that while she had powers, seeing what he could do might be a little much. People often had no issue accepting mental abilities or things they had seen in movies or comic books, powers they were familiar with. It was a little harder for a lot of people when they realized exactly what he could do. His abilities were unusual, and very difficult for people to understand. Even now, Bog had problems with people who knew him, knew what he could do, and understanding exactly how his abilities worked, how Bog functioned. 

Then there was what had happened with Olivia, what she had been doing with her abilities, what she had done--or tried to do--to him... 

Bog frowned, his joy turning a little sour at the thought of Olivia. Bog sighed. Maybe he should call his mother and father, tell them...ask them how he should go about telling Marianne... 

Bog chewed on his lower lip in thought as he got out of his car and headed up the steps to his brownstone apartment. The door was unlocked and he headed inside, greeted by the sound of piano music. He made his way through his apartment with a smile; the tune on the piano fit perfectly with the words he was composing in his head. 

The walls of his apartment were a soothing white with intricate crown molding. There were black and white framed photos of the city along with images from cities in Europe decorating the walls he walked past; all the photos he had taken himself. He smiled, glancing at a photo of his parents, a black and white like the others, but he could vividly see the red of his mother’s hair and his father’s blue eyes, much like his own. The sounds of the music became louder as Bog entered the living room. 

The living room had high ceilings with tall narrow windows that looked out onto the side garden and let in light when he chose to have the curtains pulled back, which he didn’t do often, hadn’t done in months, not since the accident, and tonight was no different. 

At the piano, Bog’s twin played. Whereas Bog had long hair and a trimmed beard, his twin’s hair was equally as long, worn loose to hang around his shoulders, though his beard was longer and scruffy looking making him look like a clean, but homeless man--or maybe a late sixties cult leader, he thought with a smirk. The other sat at the piano, playing barefoot in a pair of pink athletic pants with lime green stripes down the side and a black t-shirt that looked as if he had slept in it. His fingers moved over the keys with expert skill, his eyes closed while his body moved to the music. 

Bog grinned, taking off his jacket and tossing it over the back of a chair was he walked over to the piano. “That’s perfect,” he said. 

“Just need to write down the lyrics,” his twin said, glancing up at him. 

Bog gave a nod and a smile before he headed down the hall and into the bedroom to grab his journal that he kept on his bedside table. The journal was a small black book in which he wrote poems, lyrics, and dreams. His mother had given it to him as a focus to help settle his mind after the accident. He didn’t need it anymore, but it helped sometimes just to write down his thoughts, the words. Maybe it was a little bit of a crutch, but he didn’t care. 

Bog came back out of the bedroom with the journal tucked under his arm and his guitar in his hands. He had kicked off his shoes while in his bedroom, moving across his floor in his stocking feet and sat down on the light beige sofa that sat close to the piano, and rested the guitar on his lap. He laid the journal on the coffee table and quickly wrote down the first few lines of lyrics to the song for Marianne before he turned his attention to tuning the guitar. 

Once he had it tuned, he stroked his fingers over the strings, seamlessly blending his playing with his twin who still played at the piano. Together, they fleshed out the music without exchanging another word. Bog smiled, closed his eyes, and let himself relax into the rhythm of the music he was composing. 

* 

Marianne threw herself onto her bed after she kicked off her shoes and screamed into her pillow, kicking her feet with joy. She felt like a kid at Christmas who had just received the best present ever! Bog was fantastic! She couldn’t wait to see him again. She rolled over onto her back with a giggle, spreading her arms out wide. She couldn’t remember what the time difference was between here and home, but she so much wanted to call Dawn and tell her little sister all about Bog. Ugh, she would have to wait until her lunch break tomorrow to call. Marianne’s eyes widened at the thought that she would see Bog in the morning and she squealed again. 

It had been forever since she had been this happy, and even the fact that she had to use her powers tonight hadn’t dampened her evening. She hated to use them, hated to use them on Bog, but the last thing she wanted was for those stupid drunks to ruin her date! And...she told herself...it could have been worse than those drunk guys just being rude. What she had done, using her powers had been responsible, a responsible use of her abilities, which was why she could justify not being upset with herself. 

She just wouldn’t use them again, she promised herself. 

* 

The next morning dawned grey and cloudy. Marianne dressed carefully; she wore a pair of relaxed tailored men’s style trousers with a tartar print in black, navy and green with a black turtleneck and black ankle boots. The turtleneck was one she had for years but it was well made, a gift from her mother, while the slacks were a bargain find during last year’s after-Christmas sale at work. The boots were a dream, a pair she found at a store that had been closing. They were black leather with an inch heel and straps across the ankles. 

Marianne walked down the sidewalk at a rapid pace, trying to be cool, but her heart beat out a fast rhythm; she was both nervous and excited to see him. As she approached the cafe, she saw him sitting at his seat by the window. When Bog saw her, he waved and Marianne felt her knees go wobbly. He was dressed in black--slim cut black slacks, a black sweater over a white collared shirt. 

This morning his hair was pulled back in a loose bun at the nape of his neck and he had shaved a little more. When he smiled and waved at her, Marianne nearly stumbled. 

She hurried inside, glancing once at Cherry who gave her a wink before she stopped at Bog’s table where he had her coffee waiting for her. 

Bog stood as she came over. “Good morning.” 

Marianne grinned as he pulled a chair out for her. “Morning. Sleep well?” 

Bog nodded. “I did--you? And you look beautiful, by the by.” 

“Thank you.” Marianne blushed, then added, “I slept great!” She grinned taking her seat as Bog quickly came around and handed her coffee to her. “How long do you have?” He asked with an earnest look in his eyes. 

Marianne frowned. “Maybe ten minutes. The bus was running a little late.” 

Bog smiled. “Well, it’ll be the best ten minutes of my day then.” 

Marianne laughed with pleasure, her cheeks turning a rosy hue. 

* 

When Marianne arrived at work to clock in, Evelyn was clocking in at the same time, yawning so wide it looked to Marianne that she might crack her makeup if she wasn't careful. Evelyn grinned when she saw Marianne behind her. “Well the date must have gone well, you’re all smiles or did it go...really well?” Evelyn smirked and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Marianne felt her ears catch on fire, but she nodded as she clocked in. “It did. We’re going out again Friday.” 

Evelyn lifted a surprised brow at her. “Oh, he got a second date? I can’t remember anyone ever getting a second date.” Evelyn frowned before giving Marianne an amused look. “I can’t remember a lot of first dates either…” 

Marianne giggled and shook her head as she shrugged. “Bog’s different.” 

“Clearly,” Evelyn replied as the two of them headed through the back halls toward the doorway that would take them out onto the floor. 

* 

Somewhere in another party of the city, Olivia walked quickly down an extremely expensive, very modern office hallway which consisted of pale grey walls on one side and all windows on the other side to provide a gorgeous view of the city below, except Olivia didn’t care one iota about the view as her heels made a sharp sound against the tile floor. She was dressed in wide-legged black slacks, a shimmering black and gold sleeveless wide neck turtleneck, a pair of black stilettos, and wore her dark hair down. She looked like a black widow, dangerous and lethal, which was fine by her. She felt lethal, ready for a fight. Her lips were set in a firm lime, her brow furrowed. She hated having to report a failure==hated failing in general--but when she had to report it to Roland, it pissed her off even more. She was ready to fight back though if he tried to say she was a failure. He didn’t know how difficult Bog was in general, but now there was another woman? 

That angered Olivia more than anything else. 

She wanted Bog broken, pining over her so that he would crawl back to her, starved for affection. Then she could crush him, bend him to her will and the will of the organization. Instead he had a fucking girlfriend! And an ugly little tramp too. She probably told him daily that she loved him, slobbering over him like some...grrr...Olivia’s thoughts degenerated into wordless anger. 

Olivia growled to herself in annoyance. She hated other women in general, but she loathed it when another woman got between her and what she wanted, even if she only meant to destroy it. She didn’t want Bog, but she certainly didn’t want anyone else to have him either. She blamed his fucking mother for training him so damn well. Any other man, with or without powers, would have fallen all over themselves once she put her will and abilities to work, but not Bog... 

Olivia snarled in frustration one more time. It was a good thing none of Ian Roland’s employees were around or she would have turned their brains to jelly just for the satisfaction of hurting something. 

She arrived at the door with Roland’s name printed in gold letters on the door. She took a deep breath through her nose and released the same breath through her lips before she rapped her knuckles against the door. 

She had to wait only a few seconds before she heard Roland’s honeyed voice on the other side answer: “Enter.” 

Olivia schooled her features before she opened the door and walked into Ian Roland’s office. 

Ian’s office had white walls with walnut furniture and grey wood flooring. His desk sat by the window that took up one wall of the office, flooding the room in natural light, and highlighting Roland’s exquisite features where he sat behind his desk waiting. 

To say that Ian Roland was handsome was an understatement. His hair was blonde, sporting an expensive cut, green eyes, chiseled features with a trim body she knew for a fact he worked on daily, which was highlighted to perfection by the tailored light grey suit he wore. He was a beautiful man, but like her, that beauty was only on the surface. Olivia knew for a fact that Roland was just as ugly on the inside as she was. 

Ian Roland looked up from some paperwork on his desk, holding her in place with his gaze. 

“I'm going to assume you have bad news?” he murmured with a fractional lift of his eyebrows. 

Olivia walked toward the desk and threw herself into the leather chair that sat waiting on the opposite side. “He has a girlfriend.” 

Roland blinked. “Bog has what?” 

“A girlfriend, some mousy little piece of shit named Mary Anne, Marie, or Marianne...I don’t know.” Olivia crossed her arms over her chest, looking like a sullen child. “He wouldn’t listen to me…” 

Ian frowned rubbing the tip of a finger against his lower lip in a gesture that was calculated to be seductive. “A girlfriend, how odd.” Roland sighed, but then smiled a moment later. “Though perhaps Bog having a girlfriend will simply give us another route by which to get him to join us.” 

Olivia frowned with a slight tilt of her head. “What do you mean?” 

Roland’s smile was cruel. “We simply go through the girl.” 

Olivia’s frown deepened, marring her pretty face. “Why do you even want him with us?” 

Ian smiled. “Because Bog and I once were best friends…” 

Olivia gave him a look that said she didn’t believe a word of it. Roland smiled at her before sighing. “Fine,” he relented. “Bog’s ability is unique! I want him as part of my group, my people, and if I can get Bog, I can get his parents! Adding the King family to the organization will make the others stand up and pay attention.” 

Olivia smirked. “Then maybe your own parents would take you seriously?” 

Roland narrowed his eyes dangerously at Olivia. She knew he wanted to use his abilities on her, but he couldn’t and that pissed him off. Olivia leveled a smug smile at him. 

Roland glared at her, but just as quickly his features smoothed back to his perfectly handsome face. “I want you to find out more about this Mary--Marianne, person.” 

Olivia groaned. “Ian, really…” 

Roland narrowed his eyes dangerously and Olivia snapped her mouth shut. He may not be able to use his powers on her, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt her. 

“I want her name, where she works, how many siblings she has, what she takes in her coffee…” Roland hissed. “Report everything to me by Monday. One way or another, Bog will be joining our little family, whether he wants to or not. We are too valuable to waste on...riff raff.” 

Olivia swallowed as very real fear trickled down her spine. 

* 

It took forever for Friday to arrive. 

The morning of their date Marianne was practically vibrating with anticipation as well as irritation since she seemed to suddenly not have one piece of clothing worth wearing on a second date! 

They had coffee together the last couple of mornings with Marianne only being able to stay for a few minutes before she had to go off to work, but they had been texting during Marianne’s lunch breaks, and then at night lying in bed. She and Bog would text back and forth discussing everything and nothing, making each other laugh before Marianne had to get some sleep. 

Bog always ended his text with: “I look forward to holding your hand again.” 

Marianne grinned happily, her thoughts on Bog as she pulled out a pair of leggings from her closet followed by a purple sweater. Last night the two of them had spent several hours just talking about movies back and forth on her phone, texting quotes to see if the other could guess the movie. 

She found out that Bog’s taste in movies was rather eclectic. He liked dramas, historical movies, action, sci-fi, and fantasy. Pretty much any movie she could think of, Bog had seen it. She had jokingly asked him if he slept or did he just watch movies. He had texted her back a smiling face with the words, “I lied, I don’t have a job. I just watch movies and eat pretzels and drink beer all day.” To which Marianne text back. “That makes you a jerk because you can do that and stay so slim.” 

Bog had laughed. She could almost hear the sound of his laughter as he texted her back that eating anything he wanted without gaining weight was his super power. 

They had talked about movies all night after that. His knowledge of movies was amazing. He had mentioned several movies that Marianne had never heard of, which had prompted Bog to ask if maybe, if she wanted a third date, he would ask her at the end of tomorrow night to have a movie date at his house, with a meal cooked by him and the promise of the best movie popcorn she had ever tasted. He had told her it wasn’t an official date request so she didn’t need to answer now, but he would ask at the end of their date tomorrow night. He had promised he was a good cook. 

Marianne already knew her answer was going to be yes. The date tonight would have to be a world class disaster for her to say no, which she completely doubted would happen. 

She had also received her tickets to the con in the mail that afternoon, so when she was texting Bog last night, she offered him one. 

Bog had accepted. 

She giggled, thinking about him as she dressed (still angry at her closet, but she would work with what she had.) She pulled on the black leggings, a pair of black boots that came up over her knees, a little dated but she still thought they still looked good, and a purple and black striped sweater that stopped at her waist. 

She finished her hair and makeup and hurried out to catch the bus. 

* 

Bog was at the same table in the coffee shop, once more waiting for her, and with a huge smile on his face. This time he was completely clean shaven, which was a little bit of a shock when she saw him, his long hair pulled back into a braid, but his long featured face, with its long nose and sharp angles was freshly shaven. He was handsome before, but without the beard she could really see his face. But mostly it was that without the beard she could see his lips better, his sensual, sexy lips smiling in a way that made every nerve ending in her body come alive at once. 

Today he was dressed in dark grey slacks, suspenders with a grey dress shirt underneath and a dark brown blazer over the top. When she came over to his table, Bog took both her hands in his and brought them to his lips. 

“Did you sleep well?” he asked. 

Marianne, feeling her cheeks redden in excitement at his touch and his new appearance, nodded. “Did you?” 

Bog nodded. “I did, though I did have a nightmare about ice skating.” 

Marianne laughed as she took the chair he pulled out of her. “We don’t have to go ice skating…” 

“Nope, no I’m going to do it--I did ask you, after all. Besides, how could I pass up the chance to skate with such a beautiful woman teaching me?” Bog smiled. “I would have to be stupid.” 

Marianne giggled, blushing as she sat with Bog to have her morning coffee. 

* 

This time Marianne’s day went by quickly. 

Fridays were usually pretty busy with women and men coming in to have their makeup done for parties or just for going out on a Friday night. Friday was the day they sold the most makeup products. Everyone in retail would try to say the busiest day was Saturday, but in Marianne’s experience the busiest day was always Friday. (Thank goodness she didn’t have to work Saturday or Sunday this weekend. She was hoping to spend the weekend with Bog, maybe going out both days! She hadn’t asked for the weekend off, but she had covered for Judith last month when Judith had to take two weeks off unexpectedly and Marianne had covered her shifts as well as her own. It had been a rough two weeks, but Marianne’s checks had been nice. This weekend was her thank you for that bit of extra work.) 

By the time six o’clock rolled around, Marianne was tired, but ready to see Bog. She hadn’t brought a change of clothes this time because she had only remembered to bring the clothes she had stuffed inside her locker home yesterday and she didn't want to leave an outfit here over the weekend. She did scrub and wash her face in the sink in the employee bathroom, giving her hair a quick brush, but when she looked at the time on her phone, she saw it was five ‘til six. She frowned. That wasn’t enough time to put on any makeup, or at least not well. 

Marianne groaned. She had been trying so hard not to use her abilities, but now in the last week she had used them twice! And she was thinking about a third time! Ugh...but it wasn’t anything as drastic as what she had done at the park and keeping the illusion of makeup on her face was something she could do with little real thought, almost like breathing. She wouldn’t be hurting anyone... 

Marianne looked around to make doubly sure that no one was in the bathroom before she looked back at the mirror. She didn’t need to see herself to do this, but it helped a little, like putting on makeup for real. She examined her reflection for a few seconds trying to decide what she wanted before she started. Marianne took a breath and let it out slowly. Dark purple eyeshadow appeared around her eyes followed by some black eyeliner, and her eyelashes thickened and lengthened, but not too much--she didn’t want to over do it. Next, her lips took on a soft plum color and her cheeks became slightly rosier. If she wanted to, she knew she could change the way she looked completely, she could change the color of her skin, the length of her hair... 

She could make an illusion that was real enough that no one would know the difference, someone could touch her hair and fully believe it was long and to her shoulder, but she wasn’t into deception like that. She had tried it a few times when she was in high school, when she figured out that she could cause illusions that affected her appearance, but it hadn’t ended very well any of those times. A small illusion to apply makeup or to style her hair wasn’t that big a deal, she told herself as she grabbed her purse and coat and headed out to meet Bog. 

* 

She found Bog waiting outside, parked by the sidewalk and leaning against the Jaguar, his hands in the pockets of his pants. He wore a pair of sharp-toed black ankle boots, which she hadn’t noticed this morning, crossed at the ankle. Why was that so sexy? she asked herself when she saw him, long lean legs clad in tailored pants... 

When he saw her, he stood up and smiled, which struck her like an arrow right through the heart. 

Marianne felt her breath leave her body and her heart skipped a beat. He looked so damn attractive and he was here to pick her up! Her, Marianne, not some rich woman with style and class. 

No, he was there for her, farm girl moved to the city… 

Marianne screamed internally, mental Marianne doing a little dance. 

Bog stepped over to her. He hesitated just a moment before he put his arms around her and gave her a hug instead of kissing her hand. Marianne’s eyes rolled just a little with pleasure. God, he smelled so good she thought as she put her arms around him and hugged him in return. Bog kept his embrace gentle, but Marianne didn’t; she let herself fully enjoy the hug. 

When Marianne didn’t immediately push him away, but instead put her arms around him, Bog thought he would hoot with joy. He hadn’t planned on hugging her, but when she stepped close to him he couldn’t help it, he wanted to hold her. He held her gently, his lips against her hair. Her hair smelled good and standing there in his embrace, she felt wonderful, made him feel wonderful. Bog kept his arms loose around her as he didn’t want her to think that she couldn’t break free if he made her uncomfortable, but Marianne didn’t pull away. Instead she put her arms around him and tightened her hold. He smiled and very lightly cupped the back of her head as he hugged her. He could feel that she was using her abilities again, more subtle than the other night during the encounter in the park. This time whatever she was doing was feather light, something to herself he thought, maybe, though he couldn’t be sure. Not that it mattered. 

Marianne smiled, her cheek against his chest. Would it be weird to stay like this forever she thought with a grin, but Bog stepped back, though he slid his hands down her arms and took her hands. 

“Ready to watch me fall on my ass?” Bog asked with a smile. 

Marianne grinned up at him. “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.” 

Bog laughed brightly, turning to open the door for her. Marianne slid into the car laughing with him. 

* 

The ice skating rink that Bog took her to was an outdoor rink surrounded by trees, lights and people. Marianne thought it was a really lovely setting. Since the rain a few days ago, the weather had grown colder, which made Marianne think they might have an early winter this year. The colder weather also made her thankful that when she left her apartment this morning she had decided to wear her lavender teddy bear coat. 

Bog opened the car door for her, taking her hand before he asked. “So--dinner first or skating?” 

Marianne grinned, but with a question in her eyes. “Dinner?” 

Bog nodded motioning at the skating rink. “This park has the finest hot dogs in the city!” 

Marianne laughed. “Hot dogs first, I think.” 

Bog let go of her hand to put his arm out and Marianne linked her arm with his. 

“Well my lady, let me escort you to your table,” Bog said putting on a very bad British accent that had Marianne laughing. 

* 

They found a table near the skating rink so they could easily watch the other skaters. Bog left to get their hot dogs and drinks, coming back a few minutes later with a tray and the biggest hot dogs Marianne had ever seen, along with large cut fries and two sodas. 

“I brought a sample of all the condiments since I wasn’t sure what you liked on your hot dog, but if you say no mayo I may have to break off the engagement,” Bog said as he set the tray down. 

Marianne gasped her hand to her chest. “You would end our love affair over mayo?” 

Bog nodded trying not to giggle at her. “I would, mayo has my heart.” 

Marianne grinned “Well you’re in luck, I love mayo on my hot dogs.” 

Bog leaned an elbow on the table, resting his chin in the palm of his hand and grinning at her. “Will you marry me?” 

Marianne laughed. “Yes.” 

For just a moment they were both quiet, staring at one another, Bog’s cheeks turned red as did Marianne’s cheeks. He sat up straight and cleared his throat. “Ah, you should really try these fries.” 

Marianne nodded awkwardly, but her cheeks hurt from smiling. “They do look good.” 

There was a slight awkward quietness as the two of them added condiments to their hot dogs, but when Marianne took her first bite of her hot dog she made a loud sound of happiness which made Bog laugh and the momentary silence was broken. 

Bog took a bite his hot dog and chewed thoughtfully. He wasn't really sure how to go about asking her about her abilities. ‘Hey you have powers, I have powers, we should talk about that,’ didn’t seem like a good start. He wanted to feel her out a little, to get a rough idea of how she might react if he told her he had abilities and that he knew she did too. Bog frowned in thought. He wasn’t sure how to bring up the subject until a rather nerdy thought came to him. 

He swallowed his bite of hot dog and asked. “You like comic books, right?” 

Marianne took a sip of her soda. “Who doesn’t?” 

Bog laughed. “Weird people. Okay, so we know you’re normal now…” 

Marianne chuckled taking another bite of her hot dog waiting for Bog’s question. 

“So, what do you think of superpowers? I mean, do you think people really could have powers?” Bog asked, picking up a fry and dipping it into the pool of ketchup he had on his plate before popping it into his mouth. 

Marianne tried not to react to the question, but she almost choked on her hot dog. Bog watched her carefully, trying not to stare, but he could tell he had hit a nerve. 

“Well, I suppose people could have powers…” She picked up her soda and took a sip. “There’s a lot we don’t understand about how the brain works, so I suppose it's possible.” 

Bog nodded. “I think ESP, telekinesis, all those mental powers could easily be real.” 

Marianne paled a little, wondering if she had somehow slipped up on her face and he knew, but she could tell she hadn’t. She would feel it if she had while Bog continued. “I think it would be cool for people to have powers.” 

Marianne frowned. “You don’t think, say the government would swoop in and take these people somewhere to experiment on them?” 

Bog shrugged. “Well, yes I do, but what if there was a place for people with abilities to go and be safe…” 

Marianne laughed lifting a brow at him. “Like a school for the gifted?” 

Bog grinned and shrugged. “Well, yeah something like that. What would you do if you had powers and you knew there were others? Or a place like a school or an organization for you to meet other people like you?” 

Marianne focused on her french fries, stirring one around in her own pool of ketchup. “I don’t know. I mean if I had been hiding my powers, thinking I was alone this whole time, I would be scared and hopeful.” 

Bog took a sip of his soda. “But what if someone you trusted ended up having powers too…” 

Marianne smiled. “Well, if it was a friend, someone I trusted, I would be happy to know that I wasn’t alone.” 

Bog nodded. “Me too. What if their power was really strange, completely different than your power. Would that weird you out?” 

Marianne frowned as she looked up at him and took a sip from her soda. “What do you mean different?” 

Bog shrugged. “Well, let’s say your powers deal with the mind, like telepathy for instance, and your friends powers were...I don’t know...like elemental, something vastly different. Would that bother you?” He looked at her, his blue eyes questioning, but...Marianne knew she was imagining things, but she almost thought that Bog needed to know the answer to this question, that he was serious. 

Marianne frowned in thought. “I wouldn’t think so. If they’re your friend and you trust them, then you accept them and their powers. Just like you would accept anyone who is different from you, especially someone you love and care about.” 

Bog nodded with a slight smile. 

Marianne grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “Bog, do you have a secret power? Are you Superman?” 

Bog chuckled and smiled at her. “Yes, I have a secret power, but I’m no Superman.” 

Marianne giggled. “Well I’m glad you’re not Superman because I really don’t know if I could date a guy in spandex shorts. That’s just so ‘80s.” 

Bog laughed. 

* 

After eating and discussing the more mundane topic of cars, used, new, and refurbished, Bog rented their skates. Marianne laughed watching Bog stand up, wobbling a little, his arms out to his sides for balance. He looked like a tree ready to fall. 

Marianne stood up. It took her just a few seconds to stabilize herself since it had been a while since she had been on ice skates, but skating was like riding a bicycle--you never forget. Frank Sinatra’s “Fly Me to the Moon” was playing over the skating rink’s speakers as Marianne took Bog’s hand and helped him out onto the ice. It had to look funny she thought, such a tall man holding her hand since she was so much shorter, and walking like a toddler out onto ice. 

“Okay, just hold my hand, just sorta lean your legs inward, knees bent...Here maybe I should just show you.” Marianne let go of his hand carefully, making sure Bog could stand upright before she took a few steps away from him. He wobbled, but kept his feet under him. “Okay, just sorta bend your knees like this…” She showed him. “Then use your right leg to push off using your toe.” 

She pushed off. 

Bog bit his bottom lip, focusing his attention on moving his legs. Marianne did her best not to laugh at him, but he was so earnest, the expression on his face so focused, it was damn adorable. For the next hour Marianne’s attention was on helping Bog skate while he asked her about her background in skating and athletics in general and she inquired about his high school years. 

Bog held on tightly to her hand as they made their way around the rink, his eyes focused mostly on the ice. 

He shook his head with a laugh, glancing sideways at her. “I feel really stupid.” 

Marianne giggled. “You’re doing great!” 

He laughed. “I bet I look like a giraffe on skates, all legs and no grace.” 

Marianne laughed nearly pulling him over. “It’s not that bad, I promise.” 

Bog snickered. “Liar.” 

“Okay,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Close, but still not quite that bad.” 

They made one full circuit of the skating rink, Bog keeping his feet under him with difficulty. They had to stop several times as he wobbled, threatening to take them both down. 

Marianne skated in front of him and took both of his hands in hers. 

“Stop looking at your skates and just look at me,” Marianne said softly. 

Bog looked up, their eyes meeting. She held on tightly to his hands, skating backwards. Bog focused on her, not his feet as she had instructed, and he began to slowly, but surely move with more steadiness. 

She smiled at him. “See? I knew you could do it.” 

Bog grinned lopsidedly at her as she pulled him along. “Only because you’re holding my hands.” 

Marianne blushed. “Well, I’m going to let go, so try not to look down.” 

Bog cringed. “I don’t know if…” 

Marianne let go. 

Bog immediately began to windmill his arms. “Shit!” 

Marianne laughed. “Stop flailing your arms, just look at me!” 

Bog tried to turn his attention on her, but the moment he did, he made a beeline right for her, unable to control his feet on the ice. 

Marianne yelped. “Bog watch out!” 

He tried to stop himself, but he couldn’t seem to find the control he needed, his arms and legs pinwheeled until he crashed right into Marianne. She squeaked in surprise, Bog’s legs went out from under him when he slammed into her. Both of them went crashing down on the ice. Bog had the presence of mind to catch the back of Marianne’s head with his hand, protecting her from slamming her head into the ice, though he still fell on top of her. 

Marianne gasped. She didn’t hit the ice hard enough for the air to be knocked from her lungs, but her butt hitting the ice smarted. She looked up and all of that was forgotten as she looked up at Bog who had landed on top of her, his hand cradling her head, his face so close that their noses were touching. His blue eyes seemed to fill her vision. 

Bog looked anxious. “Marianne, oh god, I’m sorry--are you all right?” 

Marianne looked up at him. His eyes were so blue and his lips, this close, looked so soft. His teeth slightly crooked, his long, lean body pressed against hers, he had fallen, landing between her legs… 

“Marianne?” Bog asked with confusion and worry clear in his voice. 

Marianne wrapped her arms around him, not stopping to think as she pressed her lips against his mouth. Bog’s eyebrows rose so far up his head that they almost disappeared when Marianne kissed him, but when her tongue brushed his lips Bog relaxed into the kiss, opening his mouth against hers, letting him enjoy the sweetness of her lips and the sensual caress of her tongue. He pulled her closer, his hand cupping her head eased into him caressing her hair while he moved his mouth over her lips. 

Marianne wrapped a leg around one of his, deepening her kiss, her tongue brushing against his lips, and when Bog opened his mouth to her, Marianne melted into a puddle of pleasure. He kissed her gently, but firmly, holding nothing back. Marianne was sure she had never in her life been kissed so thoroughly as Bog was kissing her right now. 

That was until someone stopped to stand next to them and cleared their throat. 

“I really hate to stop you guys because, wow, can I say that is one great kiss, but there are children here and you guys are sorta in the way here on the ice…” 

Bog and Marianne both lifted their heads to see a young woman wearing a vest that had the name of the rink on the left breast. She smiled at them and have a shrug. 

“Sorry.” 

Bog looked down at Marianne and they both began to laugh.


	4. Kiss the Cook

Bog turned the car engine off after he parked under a streetlamp right outside Marianne’s apartment. He turned toward her, glanced at her apartment building, then back to her. “I had fun tonight,” he said softly; the quiet atmosphere inside the car seemed to encourage whispering. 

Marianne blushed, but her smile was soft and happy. “Me too.” 

Bog frowned and rubbed his lips together before reaching up to rub the back of his neck nervously, followed by running his fingers through his hair. “Ah...I don’t want to seem pushy or smothering, but tomorrow is the weekend…” 

“Yes,” Marianne blurted out before Bog had finished speaking. 

Bog blinked in surprise and smiled. “So, you would like to come to my place for dinner tomorrow night? I’ll cook--does that sound weird? Ah.. you can say no, it’s fine. I mean…” He cringed. “I just wanted to cook for you…” He winced. “Am I making it worse? Because I feel like I’m making it worse…” 

Marianne laughed and reached over to lay her hand on his thigh. “I would like that very much.” 

Bog grinned, the pleasure at her response clear in his blue eyes. “Really?” He did a small fist pump. “Yes!” he said with quiet enthusiasm, causing Marianne to laugh. 

Bog blushed looking down for a moment before he gazed at her again. “Would four be too early? I could come pick you up and we could go to the grocery store together…” 

“That sounds great. I would like that,” Marianne affirmed with a nod. 

Bog nodded with a smile. “Awesome.” 

They both laughed before quiet fell over them both. 

Marianne took a deep breath. “I probably should go.” 

Bog nodded. “Yes, of course. Ah...I’ll see you tomorrow then.” 

Marianne smiled. “Definitely.” 

She reached out and laid her hand against his cheek, drawing him toward her. Bog’s eyes stared into hers, that deep summer blue sending little warm shivers of delight through her body. He looked so sweet, so unsure just before their lips met. Marianne kissed him slowly, enjoying the way he sucked in a breath just before their lips touched. 

Bog reached out to lay a hand on her wrist as the kiss deepened, moving from a simple press of lips, to a play of tongues. He made a soft breathless sound of want, moving his mouth over hers. The soft warmth of his lips made him feel as if for the first time in a long time that everything was going well, that he didn’t have anything to be afraid of anymore. 

Marianne sighed in pleasure; Bog was a damn good kisser. His lips were soft, his tongue slow and teasing. She could kiss him all night, which made her mind wander just a little with thoughts of his lips on other places. 

She shivered and slowly pulled away from him, smiling so much her cheeks hurt. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said softly. 

Bog grinned at her. “It’s going to take forever until four. I can’t wait to see you again.” 

Marianne giggled. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again too Bog. You know, you can pick me up earlier if you want…” She felt like a school girl as she giggled again, reaching back to let herself out of the car. She resisted the urge to ask him to take her home with him. 

Bog smiled at her, leaning over before she shut the door. “Well, I just might then.” 

Marianne smiled and bit her bottom lip as she turned to head to her apartment building. She waited until she was at the door (which was hard. She wanted to keep turning around to wave at him, but she kept telling herself that she wasn’t in high school anymore.) But when she arrived at the door, she turned around. 

Bog waved at her. His smile was bright and she would swear his eyes twinkled. She waved back before going inside, turning around one more time to see he was still there. He waved at her one last time. Marianne giggled doing the same before Bog finally started his car, and with one more wave, he drove off. 

Marianne sighed happily. “Oh god, I’m in love,” she muttered to herself before squealing quietly and rushing through her apartment. 

* 

The next morning Marianne was holding her cup of coffee, staring into her closet, trying to decide what to wear for her date when the phone rang. The song, “Pocketful of Sunshine” began to play. Marianne grinned and rushed over to her bed where her phone lay, grabbed it up, and flopped down on her bed as she hit the talk button. 

“Dawn!!” 

“Hey big sis!” Dawn’s cheery voice always made Marianne feel instantly happier, which was an accomplishment considering she was floating on cloud nine at the moment, and a little homesick. 

Marianne would always be grateful that her adopted parents didn’t split her and Dawn up. They so easily could have, but instead they took both sisters into their home and had been great parents. 

Marianne set her coffee aside and laid back on the bed with her phone to her ear. Her little sister was a ray of continuous sunshine, and the only person besides her parents who knew she had abilities. That was another reason she adored her adopted parents; not only did they take both her and her sister, they had accepted two little girls who had strange abilities, loving them and protecting them regardless. 

Dawn had her own abilities, mostly with the manipulation of light, but Dawn still didn’t have a great grasp of what she could do. Dawn referred to herself right now as an overcomplicated flashlight, but Marianne was sure there was a lot more she could do--Dawn just hadn’t figured the scope of her abilities out yet. 

“So to what do I owe this phone call? I was actually thinking about calling you, because I have some news,” Marianne said with a smile while staring up at her ceiling and seeing Bog’s features in the cracks. 

“Well, remember when you said I could come stay with you...well...how would you feel about me showing up on your doorstep on Wednesday?” Dawn asked. 

Marianne giggled. “Are you serious?” 

Dawn laughed. “I am! I miss you and Dad said he would pay for my ticket if I cleaned out the garage, so guess which family has the cleanest garage in Kansas?” 

Marianne laughed, which turned into a squeal. She thought that you could take the girl out of high school, but that girl was still in there sometimes. “How long can you stay??” 

She could hear her sister hesitate before she murmured. “Well, I might also have gotten a job in the city too…” 

Marianne sat up and her eyebrows rose up in surprise. “What?” 

Dawn giggled. “Yeah, I applied for a job at Bellezza magazine like the day after I got my Bachelor degree in mass comm...and guess who is the new assistant for the head editor?!” 

Marianne’s rose an octave. “Dawn!! That’s fantastic!” 

Dawn giggled on the other end. “Well I’m not much more than a glorified coffee girl, but it's a start. I promise I won’t impose for long. As soon as I save enough I’ll…” 

“Dawn don’t be silly! You can stay with me as long as you need. Hell, if you wanna go halves on the rent you can stay with me permanently,” Marianne said with a smile. 

“I would love that more than anything sis!” 

“Oh, I have some news too!” Marianne flopped back down onto her bed. “I think I have a boyfriend!” 

Dawn laughed. “Think?” 

“Well, we’ve only been on two dates and I’m going to his house this afternoon for dinner, which he is going to cook…” Marianne started, but Dawn gasped loud enough that Marianne had to pull the phone away from her ear for a moment. “You are going to his house for dinner??! Marianne--you do have a boyfriend! Tell me--what’s he like?” Dawn giggled. 

Marianne sighed happily and rolled onto her stomach. “He’s really tall, at least six feet. I only come up to his chest. He has long hair, hangs just past his shoulder, black, and the bluest eyes I have ever seen! He’s slender, and I think he might have money…” Marianne ran her fingers along the worn place on her bedspread that was right in front of her. “Of course, I didn’t know that at first, but he picked me up in this amazing car…” 

Dawn giggled. “Tall, dark, and handsome...oooh, he got a brother?” Dawn asked and Marianne laughed. 

“I have no idea, but Dawn..I really like him. Like really, really like him. We went ice skating last night...and he so sweet and smart…” Marianne sighed and realized she sounded like a heroine in some romance novel. 

“Have you kissed him yet?” Dawn asked. 

Marianne could almost see the expression on Dawn’s face with her light blue eyes and her short blonde hair making her sister look like a little pixie. “Yes,” she answered. Marianne blushed, rolling back onto her back. “He is the most amazing kisser!! His lips are so soft and…” She sighed loudly and Dawn giggled. “Oh, you got it bad.” 

Marianne laughed. “I do. I mean I don’t believe in love at first sight, but Dawn...I think I might be in love already.” 

She could hear the smile in Dawn’s voice. “Promise me you’ll be careful and don’t get scared.” 

Marianne knew exactly what Dawn was talking about--their abilities. That was the one thing that had always prevented her from having a boyfriend. Dawn didn’t let the fear of being found out stop her. She barreled on ahead into relationship after relationship. None of them had been serious, just fun flirting with a little bit of fun dating, but Marianne had never been able to do that. She had always worried and held herself back, but with Bog… 

“I won’t. Bog is different somehow. I just feel so…” She groaned. “I don’t know.” 

Dawn laughed. “Good. I can’t wait to meet him. He must be great if he’s got my sister in love with him already.” 

Marianne smiled and ran a hand through her hair. “He is Dawn, he really is.” 

* 

Bog’s long hair hung wet and his face was completely shaved. He wore nothing but a pair of dark blue boxers, (he bore two scars on his back, one about five inches along that ran along his spine between his shoulder blades, and another diagonally under a shoulder blade that was two inches long.) He glanced over watching his double, who still had longer hair and a bushy beard, vacuuming the hall before coming into the bedroom while Bog stood in front of the closet. He frowned before he pulled out a pair of black slacks and a dark grey henley, hopping out of the way as the vacuum cleaner suddenly came into the room and nearly got his feet. 

His twin looked over at Bog’s outfit and muttered. “Mother would tell you to stop wearing so much black.” 

Bog sighed. “I know, but I like black.” 

His twin snorted. “Maybe blue. I think Marianne might like blue, it brings out our eyes.” 

Bog frowned, looking at the grey henley for a few seconds before finally turning around and sticking it back in the closet; he pulled out a dark blue one. 

He grinned. “You’re right, blue would be better.” 

Bog picked up his clothing and was about to walk into the bathroom when his phone rang. Bog tossed his clothes onto the bed and grabbed up the phone without looking to see who it was when he hit the button. His twin turned the vacuum cleaner off and looked at him. 

“Hey!” Bog said only to hear a cool, slightly accented voice on the other end. 

“Bog! Hey old buddy!” 

Bog frowned sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Ian Roland?” 

Ian laughed. “Well, don’t act so surprised Bog.” 

Bog rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry Roland. It’s just, I haven’t heard from you in a few years. Not after…” 

Roland laughed. “Oh that, water under the bridge Bog. Water under the bridge. I’m living in the city now and I was wondering if you would like to meet for brunch tomorrow. We could talk about old times, and I could tell you about my new business venture that I’m pursuing here in the city.” 

“Business venture?” Bog frowned glancing up at his twin, both of them frowning with identical looks of suspicion and confusion. 

Roland laughed. “Don’t sound so shocked Bog. Remember when I told you I wanted to pursue a venture for people like us.” 

Bog narrowed his eyes. “People like us?” 

“Primes Bog. Primes. Look, I don’t want to talk about this over the phone--so brunch tomorrow?” Roland asked, his voice cheerful. 

Bog frowned at Roland’s use of the word. The last time he had seen Roland, they had parted on less than ideal circumstances, both of them holding very different philosophies in regards to Primes, or rather people with abilities. Primes was the word Bog’s father had come up with, but mostly concerning Bog himself. Roland, however, used the word to mean better, superior, which Bog didn’t like. Once, a long time ago, he and Roland had been friends, almost like brothers. He supposed he owed it to Roland to at least hear him out. 

“Fine, brunch. Where?” Bog asked picking up his clothing again as he stood. 

“Mm, how about this little place I heard about called The Morning Jolt?” Roland suggested, his voice cheery. 

Bog froze and exchanged a look with his twin. 

His mind raced. If Roland knew about the coffee shop where he had been going, did he know about Marianne? God, he didn’t want Roland to know about her, to know she had powers. Roland would pursue her relentlessly if he knew she had abilities, trying to recruit her to his way of thinking. Bog bit his bottom lip in thought and narrowed his eyes a moment later. Olivia, she had to have told Roland about Bog frequenting the coffee shop and she may have mentioned Marianne, but he knew there was no way she would have known that Marianne had powers, not unless Marianne had used them in front of Olivia. And even then, he wasn’t sure Olivia would know unless she got into Marianne’s head...so Roland was just being as ass, letting Bog know that he was speaking with Olivia… 

Bog closed his eyes and contained his sigh before he answered. “Sure, I’ll meet you there about ten tomorrow.” 

He could almost see the smirk on Roland’s lips. “Great. See you there Bog.” 

Bog hung up the phone with a sigh as he glanced over at his twin who whispered. “This is bad news. You know it’s bad news.” 

“I know, but…” Bog shook his head, but his twin murmured. “Why do you do this to yourself? You know Roland couldn’t have changed that much in the last few years. He’s wanting to use Primes in this business venture he mentioned, and you know that can’t be good.” 

“I just keep hoping he’ll become the man I once knew. A man I could have called brother,” Bog murmured, but his twin shook his head. 

“I guess. Just be wary of him.” 

Bog nodded walking into the bathroom to shower and dress. “I will.” 

* 

Marianne raced down the stairs, all smiles. She had finally settled on a pair of black denim leggings that she had purchased at Wal-Mart and a little dark purple sweater that her mother had given to her for Christmas, a pair of shiny combat style boots purchased on clearance from work, and her teddy bear coat. She grinned when she saw Bog get out of the car to open the car door for her, smiling at her in a way that made her feel warm all over. He was completely shaven which now showed off his sharp chin and cheek bones, his long hair simply pulled back to the nape of his neck. He wore a dark blue henley under a black peacoat that made his eyes pop in a way that made every nerve ending in her body sing. 

“You look beautiful,” Bog said the moment she was within ear shot. 

Marianne blushed. “Thank you. You look very handsome.” 

Bog blushed and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.” 

Marianne slipped into his car, watching as Bog hurried around the front and got in beside her. “Ready for an exciting date of food shopping?” Bog asked with amusement. 

Marianne nodded. “Yes!” 

Bog grinned at her and pulled the Jaguar away from her apartment building. 

* 

Bog took her to a market called Fresh and Fabulous that Marianne had never been to because she knew the prices were way out of her league. They carried some of the best in fresh fruit and cruelty free meat in the city, but on her modest income ramen was more her speed. 

Bog took her hand after she stepped out, threading his fingers with hers to send happy warm ripples spreading through her body from the point of their connected hands. 

“How would you feel about some chicken piccata pasta?” Bog asked as they walked together into the store, swinging their hands between them. 

“The only part of that I understood and know is the chicken, but I bet it's awesome.” Marianne smiled up at him and Bog laughed. 

“Well, I think I make a pretty good chicken piccata pasta. My mom taught me, though I did take several cooking classes too.” He grinned at her as they walked over to the carts where Bog let go of her hand to pull one out. “I went to France, Japan, and Italy to learn to cook and then I took classes here in the states.” 

Marianne blinked, staring at him. If any other person had just said that to her, she would have thought they were lying, but the way Bog said it, the matter-of-fact tone, she believed him. 

He turned the cart around and grinned at her. “Hop on.” 

Marianne gave him a quizzical look at first, followed by a laugh when he wiggled his eyebrows at her and gave the cart a playful shove back and forth. “I’m too tall or I would have you push me around...the burden of being this tall, but I am tall enough for all the other rides.” He grinned at her, making Marianne’s heart skip a beat. 

Marianne laughed and got onto the front of the cart; holding on she grinned. “Okay sir, push!” 

Bog chuckled and began to push the cart through the store. “Yes, my lady!” 

* 

Together they strolled through the store, grabbing everything Bog would need for their meal, from the chicken to fresh made pasta along with a bottle of white wine. Bog pushed her, occasionally jumping onto the cart after he jogged down an aisle so that both of them sailed together down the aisle. Marianne squealed and laughed in delight. 

Bog grinned, hopping off the cart to inspect the bread rolls. “So, do you have plans tomorrow?” 

Marianne hopped off the cart as well, coming over to stand with him. She glanced sideways at him, her cheeks rosy. “Not really, maybe to lay on my couch and watch movies.” 

Bog reached out for some rolls trying to look cool and calm, but his heart was beating quickly. “I was wondering if you might want to go fishing with me tomorrow afternoon on my boat.” 

Marianne blinked with a slight frown on her lips. “You have a boat?” 

Bog decided on some rolls, pulling them down as he turned to face her with a shrug. “Yeah, I thought it might be nice to go on the lake, what with the trees all changing color…” 

Marianne bit her bottom lip and Bog quickly added. “You can say no, of course. I mean I know it's probably too much after two dates in a row. I just thought…” He groaned softly. “I just really like you Marianne and…” 

Marianne reached out and laid a hand on his chest. “I like you too Bog. I can’t think of anything else I would rather do on a Sunday afternoon than spend time with you on a boat.” 

“Really?” Bog asked softly. He looked so handsome, so sweet, and insecure. 

Marianne nodded. “Yes, really Bog.” 

She smiled and stepped closer, easing onto her toes to place a soft kiss on his lips. Bog put one arm around her (the other held the rolls) and kissed her. It was a slow, sweet kiss that burned through Marianne’s body like no kiss she had ever had before. She opened her mouth, her tongue meeting his in a sweet caress. She wanted to taste more of his tongue, to feel his lips, soft and warm. Her hand on his chest tightened, turned into a fist as she gathered up his shirt in her fingers while she kissed him. 

They were both interrupted by an older man’s voice laughing. “Young love.” 

This was followed by the voice of an older woman laughing too. “Remember when we would make out anywhere at anytime?” 

Bog and Marianne both flushed crimson, stepping away from each other to see an elderly couple looking at the bread. 

The old man laughed. “Don’t stop on our account kids.” 

His wife laughed. “No no, you two go right ahead. It’s sweet to see two people so in love.” 

Bog swallowed blushing. “Ah, sorry…” 

Marianne giggled moving to hop back on the back of the cart while the man’s wife smiled at them. “You two are adorable.” 

Marianne blushed. “Thank you.” 

“You two have fun today. Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.” The older man laughed taking his wife’s hand while she smacked him lightly with the other hand. “Harold really!” 

He laughed kissing his wife’s hand that he held in his as they moved down the aisle in the opposite direction. 

Bog blushed looking over at Marianne. “That was a little embarrassing.” 

Marianne giggled. “A little, but I would do it again.” 

Bog smiled and laughed. “Me too.” 

He wrapped his hands around the cart handle and began to push her again when he suddenly stopped, his eyes lighting up. 

“We need desserts!” Bog announced, spinning the cart around which had Marianne squealing and laughing as he headed to the bakery. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t bake?” Marianne asked in mock astonishment, but Bog simply grinned at her. “Well, I do actually, but since I’m making dinner I thought it would be nice if I could just enjoy dessert without putting in the work. Not that I don’t mind baking--I enjoy it--but I also thought I would save that skill for another date so I can continue to impress you.” He gave her a wicked grin. “I can’t play all my cards at once.” 

Marianne tilted her head at him. “Is there nothing you can’t do?” 

Bog grinned at her. “Well, I can’t ice skate.” 

Marianne giggled as Bog brought the cart to a stop in front of the bakery. “You can pick whatever you would like.” He grinned at her. “We can see how in sync our finer tastes are.” 

Marianne giggled, looking into the display case from her perch on the cart. Everything inside looked like it would add ten pounds just by her gazing at them. She thought briefly that she might have to go jogging or something to work it off, but at the same time she knew she was kidding herself. She would just lay on the couch and hope the dessert would melt away because the idea of jogging made her slightly ill. Though the idea of Bog, shirtless, in jogging shorts beside her made the idea far more appealing. 

“Is there anything you don’t like?” she asked glancing at the case that was filled with some exotic looking and scrumptious delicacies. 

Bog shook his head. “If it’s sweet, I love it.” 

Marianne blushed and whispered playfully. “I’m sweet.” 

Bog grinned at her, reaching over the cart to caress her chin. “Well, I love you already.” 

Bog’s eyes widened when he said the words, swallowing at the same time he dropped his hand from her face. “I meant...I love sweets and…I love you...I mean..I like you...” He made a face. “Ah ...damn it…” 

Marianne was blushing as she hopped off the cart to walk around it to him and take his hands. “Bog…” 

He looked down at her, his embarrassment clear on his flushed features. “I…” 

Marianne kissed him again, not as passionately (since the employee at the bakery counter was there), but she did kiss him soft and sweet. 

Bog sighed with longing when she stepped away from him, smiling at her. She kept a hold of one hand, tugging him a little closer to the bakery display. 

Marianne pointed at a dessert that resembled a chocolate cake. “How about this one? It’s called Ultimate Indulgence.” She looked at the clerk. “What is it?” 

The clerk smiled. “It's made with our Callebaut chocolate ganache, with just a hint of raspberry.” 

Marianne grinned. “That sounds…” She laughed. “Indulgent.” 

Bog nodded. “Two slices of that please.” 

They both gazed at each other, holding hands and smiling as the bakery clerk pulled the slices out and boxed them. 

* 

When Bog pulled up to his place, Marianne’s mouth fell open. Bog lived in a brownstone in what Marianne always thought of as the rich peoples’ part of the city, where the streets were always clear of garbage and the homes all looked to be straight out of magazines. Honestly, she didn’t really think people lived in homes like this in the city, that it was all some sort of fairy tale and that homes and neighborhoods like this with the old trees that lined the sidewalks casting the place in deep cool shadows with colorful mums planted everywhere were a sort of make believe. Yet Bog pulled up and parked in front of one, pointing before he got out. “This is my place.” 

Marianne tried to school her reaction, but her eyes widened. She managed to hide her mouth dropping open like a fish; at least she hoped he hadn’t noticed it. 

Bog came to get her door before he started to pull bags out. Marianne grabbed a couple, appreciating how Bog didn’t try to stop her or do it all himself. 

While she followed him up the cobblestone walk to his home, she gawked behind his back. The outside of the place was stunning. She saw colorful fall colored trees, the mums and green bushes running around alongside the building. 

Bog balanced his bags to pull out his keys and opened the black painted door to his home. He flicked a light switch and stood aside for her. “Home sweet home,” he announced with a smile. 

Marianne walked inside and nearly dropped her bags. 

The inside of Bog’s home was stylish, yet she felt an air of comfort about the place. The walls were painted a brick red with egg shell trim. She was impressed by the pale, hardwood floors that had thick throw rugs on them. They were begging to have her walk barefoot over them. 

The furniture all complimented the front room, with thick comfortable looking chairs and sofa, with stylish, dark throw pillows. There was a large flat screen television mounted on the wall and, she noted with a double blink, he had a piano!! She could see beyond the living room at the end of a picture adorned hallway a small open room and a set of glass doors that opened out onto a rather large patch of green grass with a small path and expensive looking lawn furniture. 

Bog walked past her. “The kitchen is this way.” 

Marianne followed him in silence; she didn’t trust herself to speak yet. She saw down the hallway that two closed doors were set on either side, just offset from each other, which she assumed led to his bedroom and bathroom. Just off of the back and left side of the living room was the opening into the kitchen, which had track lighting, a breakfast nook for two, stylish wooden cabinets, and a modern looking sink with black marble counters. There was a coffee machine that she had seen in her work, something she knew cost at least two hundred dollars as compared to her Mr. Coffee coffee machine that had cost her almost forty bucks, and that had been a huge expense for her. He had a modern, fancy oven, big stainless double door refrigerator... 

Marianne looked around in astonishment. 

Bog walked into the kitchen and set his bags down. “Feel free to make yourself at home.” He pointed at a stereo on the counter by his microwave. “CD player--I like to listen to music while I cook, but I have a music collection over there…” He pointed toward a couple of large CD towers that stood on either side of his television, where she also saw a large blu-ray collection. Bog continued as he pulled items out of the bag. “You can pick whatever you like to listen to, or no music at all.” He smiled at her. “There is water and juice in the fridge and a few beers...help yourself. Or I can pour us some wine right now too. And the bathroom is down that hall, first door on the right.” 

Marianne gazed around. “This is...wow Bog. I mean I never thought people actually lived in homes like this!” 

Bog blushed and smiled at her as he pulled pots and pans out. “You like it? It’s small, but cozy.” 

Marianne cringed. “Remind me to never invite you to my place. It will be a major let down.” 

Bog turned to smile at her. “I doubt that--you live there. I will love everything about it.” 

“Oh no, it's true, this is like…” She motioned with her hands at his house. “...your place is the castle while I live on the floor by the oven like Cinderella.” Bog chuckled at her comparison while she continued. “It’s like my place is the before and yours is the after, after they decided to tear down my apartment and start from scratch because my place was a lost cause.” 

Bog laughed. “It didn’t look that bad from the outside.” 

Marianne giggled. “Oh, believe me, it's worse.” 

Bog frowned a little and stopped what he was doing to gaze at her with concern. “Marianne, I don’t want you to think I’m showing off or that I think I’m better than you...or that this is some sort of Pretty Woman situation…” 

Marianne walked over and slid her arms around his waist. Bog smiled and put his arms around her while looking at down at her. He was struck again by how pretty she was with her large brown eyes and soft, rosebuds lips. 

“I know it’s not Bog. And I don’t want you to think that I’m a gold digger or only like you ‘cause you drive a fancy car and have a great place. I’m actually dating you for the free food.” Marianne grinned mischievously at Bog he stared at her for a beat before he started to laugh. 

Marianne grinned, laughing too. Bog leaned down and kissed her, a long slow kiss kiss that Marianne felt down to her toes. 

He pulled back and rubbed his nose against hers. “Wanna help me cook? I mean, I better feed you before you go looking for a guy who owns a restaurant.” 

Marianne laughed. “I would love to help, but I should warn you, I’m only good at making ramen.” 

Bog laughed. “Gotcha,” he said with an introspective look at the oven. “No letting you handle the oven.” 

They both laughed. 

* 

Marianne found that watching Bog cook was both entertaining and interesting. He clearly knew what he was doing, moved with confidence and grace, almost like he was dancing as he moved around the kitchen. He told her the recipe was simple, but she was sure she couldn’t have done it as well as him. She helped with the little things like putting the plates out for him to put the food on and pouring the wine. The meal was fantastic. Marianne would be tempted to say that Bog’s cooking was better than her mother’s, and that was saying something. 

After they finished, they moved to the couch in Bog’s living room. Marianne sank into the cushions with a sigh. She could sleep on this couch! (Rich people furniture, she thought with a shake of her head at herself.) Bog sat down next to her and Marianne moved to lean against him. He smiled and lay his arm around her shoulders. Marianne rested her head against his shoulder. She felt warm, relaxed, and happy. 

“Would you like to watch a movie?” Bog asked. 

Marianne smiled, snuggling close to him. “Maybe.” 

Bog stroked her shoulder with his fingertips, which made Marianne feel more comfortable and drowsy. She smiled, glancing over at the piano. “I’m guessing you play?” 

Bog nodded. “Yep.” 

Marianne frowned looking over at the piano, but she had a feeling she already knew the answer. “Is the piano the only instrument you know how to play?” 

Bog shook his head, almost reluctantly she thought. “No, ah...I know how to play the guitar, drums, and flute, but I’m currently learning the saxophone. Oh and I sing a little, write some music.” 

Marianne lifted up to look at him. “When do you sleep? You cook, play instruments, sing, write music, run a business, work on cars…” 

Bog laughed. “Don’t worry, I sleep.” 

Marianne smirked. “I don’t think so. I think you’re a robot.” 

Bog laughed. “Nope I promise, not a robot. I’m just really good at multitasking.” 

Marianne frowned. “I’m pretty good at multitasking, but not on that level.” 

Bog glanced down at her, biting his bottom lip in thought. He wanted to try to ask her again about powers, abilities. He pressed his lips together trying to figure out how to ask her, but instead he said. “Maybe it’s my super power.” 

Marianne smiled a little. “That would be cool, the power to do a bunch of things at once and do them all well, though you would still need a lot of extra arms or something…my super power would be something lame, I don’t know...like illusions.” Marianne cringed when she blurted the word ‘illusions’ out. Damn, too much wine. At this rate, she would tell him what she could do and have him looking at her like she was a loon before the night was over. She leaned over and set her wine glass down on the coffee table. 

Bog frowned, glancing down at her. Illusions, eh, he thought. Interesting though he supposed she could have just made that up for the sake of the conversation, but he felt that she hadn’t, that she had accidentally said something important. 

“I don’t think illusions would be lame. Think about what you could do with them, especially if they were really good illusions,” Bog said softly. 

Marianne frowned. “Yeah, I suppose so, though I still think being able to do a lot of tasks at once would be nice. I bet college was a breeze for you.” 

Bog smiled and shook his head. “I don’t know about that.” 

They were both quiet for a little while, Bog stroking her arm trying to figure out what he should do. He didn’t want to tell her he knew she had an ability, didn’t want to drive her away, because he was falling for her. At the same time, he wanted her to know he had an ability too, that they had something else important in common with each other... 

“Oh, I wanted to ask you. My sister is moving in with me on Wednesday--she got a job at Bellezza magazine as the editor's assistant…” Marianne snagged her glass and took a sip of her wine. (She was feeling it a little, a warm relaxation.) “I was wondering if you would like to meet her.” 

Bog looked down at her. “I would love to meet her. How about I take you both out to dinner?” 

Marianne smiled and shook her head. “You don’t have to do that.” 

Bog frowned. “And if I want to?” 

“Are you sure?” she asked, lifting a brow at him and Bog laughed, reaching over the caress her cheek. “It would be my privilege. What guy wouldn’t want to go to dinner with two beautiful women?” 

Marianne laughed and playfully smacked his chest. “Stop.” 

He laughed. “But seriously. I would love to meet your sister and I would feel privileged to take you both to dinner. If you love her and think highly of her, that’s enough for me.” He settled back again, smiling at her. “So does she have a degree in fashion? Working at Bellezza magazine...I would have thought that would be something you should be doing with your interest in fashion…” Marianne smiled and stretched her arms over her head (which was very distracting for Bog who averted his eyes.) “I have a degree in Art and Design, but I’m not very good at opening doors. Shy I guess, but my sister, she has one of those personalities that just invites people in.” Marianne smiled. “I’m happy for her, she deserves it. Besides, I still have hope to start my own clothing line...someday.” 

Bog frowned in thought. “A clothing line, hm? You’ll have to show me some of your designs.” 

Marianne wrinkled her nose. “You wouldn't be interested in that.” 

“Yes, yes I would,” Bog said with enough seriousness that Marianne turned to look at him. “Really?” 

Bog nodded. “Yes, I’m always looking for new and interesting investments. My attraction to you aside, I would be interested. I promise I won’t coddle you or lie to you either.” 

Marianne grinned. “Okay, well...all right then. I’ll bring my designs to show you, like a real meeting?” 

Bog nodded leaning over to put his wine glass down next to hers. “Yes, I can have you make an appointment and everything.” 

Marianne laughed. “Awesome! Thank you Bog.” 

He smiled. “You are welcome.” 

They stared at each other for a long moment. Bog reached out and brushed his fingers along her ear, brushing a lock of her hair back behind her ear. Marianne licked her lips, gazing into his blue eyes. The brush of his long fingers against her skin made her shiver. She wanted to feel his fingers on other parts of her. He smiled and moved closer while Marianne scooted closer too, shifting her position so that she was on her knees next to him. Bog brushed his thumb along her jaw. “You are so beautiful,” he said softly. His eyes wandered over her face, taking in the details of her features. He stroked her bottom lip with thumb, his gaze following the movements of his thumb across her lip, watching the way her lip moved, how soft... 

“You’re pretty gorgeous yourself,” Marianne said just above a whisper, which made Bog chuckle before he said, “Thank you, Marianne. Do you mind if I kiss you?” 

Marianne grinned. “I’d be a little disappointed if you didn’t.” 

Bog smiled and pulled her closer, his mouth covering hers. Marianne made a soft moan as she leaned into him. Bog gathered her close and leaned back, dropping one long leg to the floor at the same time stretching one leg onto the couch. He pulled her with him, but moved slowly in case she wanted to pull away. 

Marianne stretched out on top of Bog, her mouth never leaving his while she positioned herself on top of his long body, resting herself between his legs. She kissed him with growing passion, her mouth moving over his slowly, yet with intensity. Their tongues slid and glided against each other, sending a rush of warmth that she felt through her entire body. She slid a hand down his side, gathering up his shirt as she did so, pulled his shirt up, finding the warmth of his skin underneath. She caressed his side, feeling the softness of his skin against her fingers. Marianne made a soft moan, catching his bottom lip with her lips before plunging her tongue back into his mouth. 

Bog responded with a breathy moan against her lips. His hands moved along her back following the curve of her body, then along her rear. He moved his hands with slow care, wanting to make sure he didn’t overstep. He didn’t want to make Marianne uncomfortable, but when her reaction was to more aggressively kiss him, her hands sliding completely under his shirt, pushing the cloth up a little more, her soft hands caressing his stomach, Bog responded by caressing her rear and squeezing a little. 

Marianne moved her lips along his jaw to his throat, licking a line from under his ear down to his collar. Bog groaned arching his head back as he felt his temperature rise while Marianne kissed, licked, and gently bit at his throat. She shoved her hands under his shirt up higher, feeling the muscles of his chest, and down again along his stomach. Marianne moaned softly, sucking on his throat. His skin tasted good and she thought he smelled wonderful, a combination of a mild spicy soap or body spray, plus something that must just be Bog, all of it driving her a little crazy. She worked her way back to his mouth while shifting her position a little, moving to straddle his thigh, her leg pressed up against him; she felt the hardening between his legs. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling while she kissed him. Every inch of her felt hot and tingling. She so much wanted him to touch her. 

Bog caught her mouth with his lips, kissing her more passionately. When she brought her leg up between his, he jerked with a pleasure-filled hiss. He attacked her throat and Marianne arched slightly in response. He slid a hand over her, cupping her breast over her sweater, giving a gentle squeeze while he licked her throat before dragging his tongue back to her lips. He was gentle, cupping her breast in his hand and enjoying the fact that she fit perfectly in the palm of his hand while his other hand stroked the bare skin of her back, his fingers brushing along just under the band of her pants, feeling the line of her panties. 

Bog had never felt like this before. He wasn’t a virgin, he had a girlfriend when he attended college, but it had just fallen part; not in a bad way, they had just drifted apart. He had almost slept with Olivia, they had come close, but he pulled back refusing to sleep with her because while he was attracted to her, he wasn’t in love with her. He didn’t know when being in love with someone had become so important to him. Olivia had become angry with him. She had tried to use her abitlies on him, trying to force him, influence him with her mental abilities to have sex with her. Bog felt furious when he realized what she was doing. That had turned into an argument, with him realizing that she used her abilities on people all the time, saw nothing wrong with it. Things between them had deteriorated fast after that. 

Bog had been celibate for a several years now, but Marianne was the first woman who made him feel anything sexual since college, who made him want her with an almost agonizing need. 

Marianne groaned again. She hadn’t been touched since high school when her boyfriend tried to feel her up after prom. She had slapped him across the face. She never intended to be celibate, or a virgin. Heck, she had planned on losing her virginity prom night, but when it had come right down to it, she wasn’t ready.

Being a virgin hadn’t been her plan, it had just developed that way because she wasn’t willing to lose her virginity in the back seat of a car to a guy who, though she liked a lot, knew she wasn’t in love with. She had dated on and off over the years, but it had never gone beyond a first date or two, and never, not once had she gotten to this stage with someone. But right now, if Bog wanted to carry her off to his bedroom, Marianne knew she would go. 

She ran her hands over his torso again, pushing his shirt up to his throat while pressing herself against his thigh, rubbing slowly while they kissed. Each time he gently squeezed her breast or caressed her back and rear, she thought she might burst into flame. She was pretty positive she would. 

Bog gently broke away from kissing her, both of them breathless. He sat up a little and reached over his head to pull his shirt off. Marianne made a little happy gasp; it was like Christmas morning! She dragged her teeth along her bottom lip, getting a good look at his chest and stomach and...oh boy, she thought, wow. She giggled at him, her cheeks red as she pulled her sweater off. Bog thought he might have a heart attack. She was wearing a little lacy purple bra underneath, the dark cloth pressed against the creaminess of her skin. He could see the rosy pink of her nipples through the dark purple fabric, the image of which made his groin ache, and breathing suddenly became difficult, but his breath came back in a rush when Marianne pressed herself against him, her mouth on his once more. Bog ran his hands along her sides, feeling the softness of her skin under his hands.

He dared to snake one hand up to cup her breast again and Marianne responded by arching her chest and kissing him with more vigor, her hands caressing his throat and chest, down to his stomach. She dragged her nails over his skin in a tantalizing and delightful caress that made him roll his eyes in pleasure under his closed lids. She pressed her leg between his, causing Bog to buck while he groaned against her mouth. Bog wondered for a moment if he were dreaming, because this was the damn best dream ever. 

He wanted to keep going, he wanted to feel her naked breasts against his chest, wanted to drag his tongue against those sweet, pink nipples...damn it, he wanted to be inside her, to hear her moan and to feel her wrapped around him...but, he didn’t want to sleep with her before...well before he told her he knew she had abitlies, or before he told her about his own. It felt like a lie otherwise and he knew he never wanted to lie to Marianne--never. She was special, and he wanted something special with her. He couldn’t do that with something this large, the knowledge of their true selves, unspoken between them. 

Marianne was kissing him with near desperation, her hands stroking along his stomach, working her way lower. She wanted to pull his pants open and touch him. God, she wanted to feel him, to explore him, she wanted to give him everything, but then Bog was gently grabbing her shoulders and easing her back. 

Marianne frowned, opened her eyes to look into his eyes, his face flushed, his lips a little swollen. 

“Marianne, before...ah…” He closed his eyes. “I need to talk to you.” 

Marianne sat back. “Oh no...did I do something wrong…” 

Bog shook his head with a small smile. “No, I just...we need to talk.” 

Marianne frowned, her heart dropping to her stomach.


	5. Bog Prime

Marianne sat back on the couch, grabbing her shirt and pulling it back on as Bog pushed himself up to a sitting position. His hair was mussed and his lips were flushed from their kissing. He looked like a sex dream come true, but the mood had changed as he took her her hands in his long fingered ones, holding them gently; his thumbs rubbed across her knuckles. That was never a good sign, Marianne thought with a frown. 

Was his going to tell her he wasn’t into her after all? Did she kiss like a fish? Did she repulse him? Did he suddenly realize he was gay? Was her breath bad? Did he know her dirty secret--did she have a dirty secret? What!!!??? Her mind shouted as she looked up at him. 

Bog took a deep breath, then he spoke softly. “I know you have a secret…” 

Marianne panicked. She did? Her mind raced trying to think what secret that could be… 

There was that time in high school when she accidentally shoplifted that lip balm, but it really had been an accident (she had just missed it in her cart) or maybe it was that time when she was had gotten on that porn site, but she had just been curious about how a particular position worked and wow, had she seen more than she intended that day! 

Bog picked up his own shirt and pulled it over his head before he took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eyes. “I can’t think of a better way to say this than to just...well…” He took another breath. “Marianne--I know you have powers.” 

Marianne started and blinked at him. That was not what she thought he was going to say. She stared back, unable to speak or move. Was he joking? Or was he serious? She had told no one what she could do except for her adoptive parents and, of course, her sister since Dawn had abilities too. Marianne had been careful, hadn’t she? 

Marianne slowly pulled her hands out of his grasp and Bog looked hurt, but she spoke quickly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Bog frowned and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “Look, I know this isn’t something you talk about with just anyone and I understand because I have powers myself and the only reason I know you have abilities is because my mother trained me how to recognize when others are using their abilities--especially if they are mental, which I believe your powers are…” He gazed at her with wide blue eyes. “So...ah…” 

Marianne frowned at him. She didn’t know if she could put words to what she was feeling. Should she trust him? Her gut told her she should, that she should trust him, and not just because she found him incredibly handsome, sexy, sweet, and funny. Gazing into his eyes, she wanted to trust him. She wanted to tell someone other than her family that yes, she had abilities, that she could do things other people couldn’t, but she had grown up reading X-Men comic books. She had looked at videos of Civil Rights marches, read about Women’s Suffrage, seen Holocaust pictures. She knew what had happened to people who were different. 

But gazing into Bog’s blue eyes, she wanted to tell him more than anything in the world. And she just couldn’t. 

Marianne pressed her lips together. “How do I know you aren’t just crazy? People with powers are only in comic books and the movies. I work at a counter selling makeup.” 

Bog blinked, then laughed. His laughter had such a nice sound to it. Marianne really liked his laugh, his eyes, his smile, his lips...fuck she thought, she liked everything about him. Please don’t let him be crazy, she thought earnestly. 

“I suppose I could be crazy, but I’m not,” Bog said with a gentle smile. “But I do know you have abilities and I’m going to take a guess that your gifts have something to do with illusions.” 

Marianne couldn’t keep her expression under control. The shock of him saying exactly what she could do made her heart speed up, her hands became sweaty, and her eyes widened like a shocked owl. 

Bog reached out for her hands again; she was too numb to pull away. “My mother has mental abilities--she’s a telepath, an extraordinary telepath, in fact. My father has gifts and I have gifts ...” 

Marianne stared at him. “I don't have gifts Bog...I’m just an ordinary person. Maybe I should go.” 

Marianne stood up and yanked her clothes into place, her heart pounding so hard she could barely hear anything else. She started to walk away when Bog said softly. 

“What if I show you my ability?” 

Marianne turned to stare at him again. “What?” 

Bog sighed. “Look, I would rather not because what I can do is…” He closed his eyes and ran his hands down his face in agitation. “My ability is a bit strange and off-putting to a lot of people, at least those who’ve seen what I can do...I just…” He stood up, looking at her with an expression that broke her heart. “I don’t want you to be scared of me or repulsed. I really like you Marianne, more than like you, I admit. I want to see where this could go...I haven’t been outside my apartment in months…” 

Marianne looked confused. “What are you talking about? You’ve been outside your apartment lots! At the coffee shop, we went ice skating, shopping…” Her mind raced. Did he had tentacles, multiple mouths, a parasitic twin like in Total Recall, the 80’s version that is... 

Bog sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, pressing the heels of his hands to his mouth. He looked so upset that Marianne felt genuine worry for him. 

“Bog, maybe I…” She started, but Bog held his hand up to stop her. 

“No...I just…” He sighed glancing across the room, and that was when Marianne saw Bog...or rather his twin...step out into the room. Bog’s twin had longer hair and a full, shaggy cult-leader beard, and he wore simple grey sweatpants with a matching hoodie. 

Marianne looked between them, then glared at Bog, her Bog. “Having a twin brother isn’t having a power Bog.” 

The hairy Bog smiled at her. “It’s not that simple,” he said. His brother walked over to him, the two of them standing side by side. Then, as if by magic, the Bog that Marianne had been making out with vanished with a hint of a distortion in the air, his clothing dropping to the floor. 

Marianne made a little squeak of surprise, her eyes wide, then started to laugh. “Oh, I see, is this some sort of girlfriend test…You’re some sort of magician...” 

Bog’s hairy brother smiled. “No Marianne, it isn’t…” 

That was when another Bog, looking exactly like the hairy one in front of her, simply appeared next to him, then another, and another, and another until there were five of Bogs, all looking exactly alike and all looking at her. 

Marianne’s legs felt weak. She motioned behind her for the couch, missed and flopped down heavily in her seat. “You...you…” 

The one in the center smiled. “I can duplicate myself--maybe split is a better word.” He shrugged. “The Bog you’ve been dating is me, but was also one of my duplicates. I haven’t left this apartment in almost a year.” 

Bog stepped closer, his clones disappearing, this time taking their clothing with them. 

Marianne blinked. “I...I don’t understand…” 

Bog frowned, gazing at her with concern. “Would you like a drink? I have wine, but I also have vodka and some whiskey.” 

“Whiskey,” Marianne said in a monotone. 

Bog smiled. It was the same handsome smile, if buried under more beard and the same sparkling blue eyes. It was Bog… 

Marianne stared after him, watching this version of Bog go into the kitchen and pull a bottle of whiskey down from a high shelf along with a couple of glasses. He came back over and sat down on the couch--not too close to her, she noticed--set the glasses down and opened the bottle of whiskey. He held it over one of the glasses. “Just tell me when,” he said with a gentle smile. 

Marianne nodded, but she didn’t say when until the amber liquid was almost at the top. “When.” 

Bog smiled and picked up the glass carefully so as not to spill it, handed it to her. 

Marianne took the glass and took a large swallow. Her eyes widened in surprise and she immediately began to cough and choke. Bog looked over at her in concern, setting the bottle down to put a hand on her back, rubbing gently up and down her back while Marianne continued to cough, her eyes turning red. 

Bog grinned. “Not a heavy drinker?” 

Marianne coughed and gasped, her eyes watering. “No, never had whiskey before.” When she could breathe again without her throat, lungs, and eyes burning, Marianne asked softly. “So, you can make clones?” Bog motioned with his hands while he spoke. “They don’t think separately from me because...they are me. It’s like I’m experiencing and doing everything at once. It’s like...” He struggled for a moment. “...just like...extra me’s…” He frowned dropping his hands into his lap. “Every time I try to explain it, it’s difficult, even my mother doesn’t really understand. She’s tried to examine my head…” He tapped the side of his head while he spoke. “...and she said she couldn’t pick up a single thought, it was like there was a crowd of people in there, but they were all me, talking and working at the same time.” Bog glanced over to see Marianne staring at him confused and Bog sighed. “It’s really hard to explain, but each other body is just me, an extension of myself that I can send out into the world. But it’s always me, not a seperate me, not a different me, just always me…like an extra arm…” Bog sighed. “...thought that isn’t accurate either...” He frowned at her and shrugged. 

“So when we were kissing…” Marianne asked softly and Bog nodded. 

“Me...you’ve always been with me. I was with you ice skating and shopping, at the coffee shop. You’ve always been with me, just not my main body. It's just that this…” He motioned to himself. “Is what I call the prime me...the main body...the others are just extensions. They don’t think independently of me because it’s just me. One mind, many bodies.” He grinned at her. “I’m saying me a lot, makes me sound self-centered.” 

Marianne took another sip of the whiskey, this time a small sip. She still winced, shuddered, and coughed a little before she was able to ask. “So when you said you hadn’t left your apartment in almost a year…” 

Bog nodded. “I meant the prime me hasn’t left the apartment. I only started going out in the last two months, but...just not my prime body.” His voice was soft and Marianne heard pain in his tone that made her frown as Bog continued. “…then I met you...” He smiled, gazing at her. “That first day you saw me was my first time venturing out since the accident.” He reached out, hesitant to brush the back of his fingers against her cheek. “When I saw you I wanted to go out again in the hopes of running into you…you made me start thinking about leaving my apartment, about going back out into the world.” 

Marianne leaned into his touch, her eyes closing for a moment before she opened them again to gaze into his blue eyes. Bog dropped his hand back to his lap and Marianne tried another sip of the whiskey. The stuff tasted awful, but it was giving her a nice burn and somehow helped to steady her nerves. 

“Why haven’t you left your apartment?” she asked, setting the whiskey down. She was still having difficulty wrapping her mind around what Bog could do, which made her ability to craft illusions look like a parlour trick. 

Bog frowned, gazing down at his hands before he spoke. His voice was soft, filled with pain. “I was in an accident last winter. A really bad one. I flipped my car on an icy road going up to see my parents. Went over the embankment, the car landed on the roof among some trees. I was trapped in the car for a couple of hours at least, hanging upside down, not sure exactly how long. I remember the cold and it was dark though I kept drifting in and out of consciousness.” Bog took a deep breath before he continued and Marianne could see how hard this was for him to tell her his story. Her heart hurt for him. She reached out to lay a hand on his leg. He gave her a grateful smile before he continued. “Anyway, I have no idea how they found me, my mom said the car was totalled, the back of the car was crushed up to the front with me.”

Bog swallowed, his face pale. “My parents came searching after I didn’t show up. I don’t really remember the rescue. I suffered a broken sternum, fractured leg, a few broken ribs, a couple of pretty nasty wounds on my back, a concussion, and some mild hypothermia. I lost a couple of my front teeth that had to be replaced, had to have surgery on my leg and my fingers don’t quite work as well on my left hand as they once did, and I was in bed for weeks.” Bog pressed his lips together. “Afterwards I was terrified to leave the apartment.” He looked over at her. “It was me, my prime body in that car. If I died, if this body dies, all of me dies. I’ve lost one of my other selves before, it was a long time ago when I did something stupid and that...part of me was killed. It was one of the single worst experiences I’ve ever had, but I lived through it. After that happened, I became reckless, dividing myself and doing all sorts of reckless things, mountain climbing, speed racing, speed boats, skydiving, cliff diving. You name it, if it was dangerous, I would do it because I knew if something happened to that part of me, I would be okay really. One mind right? I thought of myself an immortal. But this time it wasn’t just an extension of me, it was me...all of me in that car…” 

Marianne saw that Bog trembled. She moved closer until her hip touched his, then she put her arms around him. Bog leaned into her while he continued to speak. 

“I didn’t want to leave the house, I didn’t want to put myself into that sort of danger went I could just live through my extensions, but then I met you.” He leaned his head against hers while he spoke. “You’ve made me want to get out of this apartment and when I realized you were like me, that you had abilities, it was like…” He smiled. “...like a dream come true.” 

Marianne giggled gently. “I didn’t know there was anyone else with abilities except me and my sister.” She blanched, then hissed. “Shit, I shouldn’t have said that. Dawn’s going to kill me.” 

Bog only laughed. “Abilities usually run in families, so it's not that unusual for siblings to have powers and for at least one of their parents to have powers too. It’s more unusual if one of the children doesn’t have powers.” 

“How did you know I have...powers?” Marianne asked, at the same time lacing her arm around his arm. Bog’s trembling had stopped, but she could sense that he needed support still. 

“I felt it. It’s really hard to explain, but people with abilities have this energy about them. And there were those guys in the park. I could feel that you were doing something, I took a guess judging by their responses that you were doing something with their minds, maybe with illusions. Though I’m going to be honest with you--mental abilities don’t work on me, has something to do with how I can divide my mind, at least that’s my mother’s working theory.” He smiled at her. “But I could feel you using your powers.” 

Marianne was quiet, nodding her head before she spoke. “This is all so weird and so much to take in...I’m not sure how I feel.” 

Bog shifted position so that he could take both her hands in his hands and look her in the eyes. “Marianne, I won’t betray your secret, you’re safe with me. That’s why I needed to tell you that I know about your secret and to share mine with you so that you know you can trust me. And, because I really like you...like, like you.” He squeezed her hands with a self-deprecating smile. “I haven’t liked anyone in years and then I met you. When I saw you walk into that coffee shop, my heart jumped into my throat.” Marianne blushed while Bog continued. “I want to have a chance to see what this could turn into, I want a chance to be with you, and for that to happen, I need you to know what I am, what I can do, because I knew what you were. And I don't want there to be secrets between us.” Bog sighed, looking down at their joined hands. “I’m bumbling this aren't I?” 

Marianne squeezed his hands. “No, you’re not. It’s just that this is all…” She shook her head. “I just feel overwhelmed.” 

“I understand.” His tone sounded defeated, sad even. “Would you like me to drive you home?” 

Marianne was still for a moment. Did she want him to drive her home? What would she do there? Stew on what he had told her, sit in her room thinking about all the questions she could be asking, but because she had punked out and left, couldn’t ask him. Or she could stay with him, stay the night and talk, talk to someone like her, someone who had grown up being different, someone who understood. Someone who she wanted to sleep with… 

“No.” She smiled, then smiled wider at the look of surprise on Bog’s face, but then Marianne gasped. “OH!! I get it now!! You know all those instruments, the cars, the business...it’s because you can learn them all at the same time…” She laughed. “Good at multitasking, eh?” 

Bog grinned at her. “You’re taking this a lot better than anyone I’ve ever met. The few other people that know what I can do didn’t take it this well, except my parents--and even they were freaked out.” 

Marianne grinned blushing. “Maybe it’s because I really like, like you.” 

Bog laughed with pleasure. 

* 

Marianne giggled, she felt a little light-headed having had another couple of shots of whiskey. It was weird how it started to taste better and burn less the more she drank. Bog had a couple of shots too while they ate the dessert they had picked up from the store. 

Bog chuckled. “Then my mother was mentally yelling at my father, who came down with two more of me by the arms until there were five of me in the room and my mother was yelling about how she was going to ground me five times over if I didn’t become one right then.” 

Marianne giggled. “Oh my god, your poor mother! You were terrible!” 

Bog grinned at her. “Yeah, a little bit, but when I could do everything I wanted at once, it was hard not to. I could do my homework and still play video games, work on my car or climb a tree. Why not, to me it was all the same, experiencing everything simultaneously. Being stuck in just one body was like wearing a corset.” Bog grinned, taking a bite of the Callebaut chocolate ganache they had bought and chewed before he said. “My mother said the first time I divided myself, she freaked out coming in to check on me after a nap when I was not quite six months old, because she heard all these babies giggling to find about ten new babies in the crib. Dad said she screamed.” 

Marianne laughed. “The first illusion I did was of a unicorn when I was five. I really wanted a unicorn for my birthday and when I didn’t get one I just decided to make one for myself. My mother screamed too.” 

Bog laughed then went quiet as Marianne leaned over and plucked a crumb from his beard. She smiled, popping the crumb of chocolate into her mouth, smiling at him. Bog stared back at her as she scooted closer, taking his plate and setting it on the coffee table with her own. She got up on her knees leaning across him. “Do you mind if I kiss you?” 

Bog grinned. He could smell the chocolate and alcohol on her breath in a heady combination with the scent of her hair and skin. He swallowed. “Yes, I would like that.” 

Marianne grinned wickedly and pressed her mouth to his lips. Bog made a soft groan and leaned back against the couch cushions, pulling her with him, their kissing going from zero to ten in a heartbeat. 

Marianne pressed herself against him, opening her mouth against his to slide her tongue along his lips. Bog opened his mouth, his tongue caressing hers. Mariane felt a shiver run through her as she reached up to run her fingers through his beard, which was thick and long. She kissed him deeper, her fingers tangling in the hair of his beard while Bog cupped her rear and pulled her closer. Marianne moved to straddle his lap, her kissing becoming more desperate. She had never been with anyone she could be herself with, all of herself. There was a sense of relief knowing she didn’t have to clamp down on her powers, to worry about doing something that would weird him out because he knew about her now and her abilities had no effect on him! 

Marianne made a soft growl, rubbing her nose against his, smiling down at him. “You’re so fuzzy.” She giggled, running her fingers through his beard. 

Bog grinned at her brushing his nose against hers. “I used to have short hair and be clean shaven, before the accident...I was thinking about shaving again, for you...if you would like?” 

Marianne giggled, grinding on his lap. Bog pressed his lips together, his eyes rolling a little at how good she felt. “I would love to see how you look without the beard--the prime you.” 

Bog grinned. “Wanna help me shave?” 

Marianne stopped grinding and quirked a brow. “Right now?” 

Bog smiled and nodded. “Why not?” 

“I think I’m a little drunk,” Marianne murmured, but Bog whispered, brushing her nose against his own. 

“I trust you Marianne.” 

* 

Bog had taken Marianne to the downstairs bathroom to shave (he didn’t take her to his private bathroom because that was part of his bedroom and he didn't want her to think he was making inappropriate moves on her.) Marianne giggled, watching while Bog pulled his long hair up into a bun on the top of his head and started to trim his beard with some scissors while she sprayed a large mountain of shaving cream in her hand. “So do you like, shave yourself? You know, like make another one of you to do the shaving?” 

Bog glanced at her reflection in the mirror. “Actually yes, it's a little easier to shave myself with a straight razor that way than trying to do it while looking at my reflection.” 

Marianne giggled. “That’s so weird and wonderful. You know, you don’t have to stay...together for me. I want you to be comfortable.” 

Bog smiled at her reflection again while he continued to trim his beard, dark hair falling into the sink. “Maybe after we shave me--that way all of me will be clean shaven.” 

Marianne tilted her head shaving cream on both hands now. “So, ah, can you duplicate things too? like the clothing you’re wearing? That’s what it looked like before.” 

Bog nodded as he turned so Marianne could start spreading the shaving cream on his cheeks and beard. “Yes, but only if its something I’m wearing when I make another of myself. If one of my duplicates changes clothing, then I won’t absorb, er dismiss, that clothing...it’s really weird.” 

Marianne frowned making sure she got shaving cream in all the right places. “Can you duplicate other people?” 

Bog shook his head just a little. “No--don’t think so, anyway. I tried it once, with a puppy when I was a kid.” 

He looked pale with a haunted expression for a moment. “It didn’t end well...I would rather not talk about it right now, if that’s all right.” 

Marianne nodded wiping her hands clean with a washcloth before picking up the straight razor on the side of the sink “Are you sure about me using this?” 

Bog smiled at her. “I trust you.” 

Marianne took a deep breath. “Well, I'm glad one of us does.” 

Bog moved to sit down on the toilet lid so she could reach him more easily. “Okay, I’m ready.” 

Marianne took another deep breath. “Okay.” 

Bog reached out and lightly touched her hip. “Just move slowly.” 

She nodded, stepping close and began to shave him. She moved the razor slowly down his cheek, pulling the blade along, leaving behind smooth skin. 

Bog's heart was beating quickly. Each time she moved close to drag the razor over his skin, her breasts were close. Occasionally she would lean a certain way and bump against him slightly. He took a deep steadying breath. 

Marianne started to talk to distract herself from the worry of cutting him. “I can make my illusions tangible and lifelike. Like if I made ice cream, you would swear you were eating ice cream, any flavor I can think of I can make you taste...well not you, since you said my illusions wouldn’t work on you, but…” She giggled as Bog grinned at her before lifting his chin up so she could slowly drag the razor up his throat. Her heart was beating quickly. Gazing at his throat, so exposed and sexy. She swallowed with a shiver. “I can make clothing that looks and feels like clothing, but once I stop concentrating or move too far away, the illusion vanishes.” 

Bog smiled trying to be still while Marianne dragged the razor gently up his neck, but she was so close, he could feel the heat radiating off her body. “So how hard do you have to concentrate?” 

Marianne started to speak when she lost her hold on the razor and nicked his chin. 

Bog winced. “Ouch.” 

Marianne gasped, jumping back from him. “Oh my god, I cut you!” 

Bog reached up and touched the end of his chin coming back with only a small drop of blood on the tip of his finger. “It's not bad.” He smiled. “I’ve done worse, so no biggie.” He reached around and pulled a square of toilet paper free from the roll and then tore a tiny corner off, which he pressed against the small cut. “There, all the better.” 

Marianne did not look pleased. “I don’t know if I…” 

Bog reached out and gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “Marianne, you’re doing fine.” 

She frowned at him staring into his incredible blue eyes, his trusting blue eyes. She took a breath and nodded. “Okay.” 

Bog released her hand. “Besides, you’re almost done! You’ll get the big reveal of just how ugly I really am!” 

Marianne wrinkled her nose at him. “You are not ugly.” 

Bog lifted a brow at her with a grin. “You don’t know that for sure. All that hair might have been hiding my true form, maybe I look like the Phantom of the Opera?” He wiggled his fingers menacingly at her, causing her to laugh. 

“You are not the phantom.” She brought the razor back to his jaw and worked slowly, careful not to nick him again, focusing all her concentration on shaving him. She moved his head this way and that, leaning in close. Bog watched her with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. She was so serious, her concentration intense on her task. He suspected she was slightly drunk, but she was shaving carefully which made his wonder if alcohol didn’t affect her as much as a normal person. He knew his mother was that way, that her mental powers gave her a slight immunity to the full effects of alcohol. Something to ask Marianne about later. 

He almost laughed. She looked so adorable in her complete focus, her lips set in a firm line, her nose wrinkled, her brow furrowed, and a lock of brown hair falling across her brow. He wanted to kiss her, to pull her onto his lap and run his hands over her while his tongue explored her mouth. His groin jerked in response. 

He sighed happily while at the same time placing his hands over his crotch where his erection was forming. Having her close, dragging the razor over his skin, thinking about kissing her, touching her, was turning him on way too much. 

After another minute or two, Marianne stepped back. “There, all done.” 

Bog stood up. “Ready?” 

Marianne smirked at him. “Ready.” 

Bog grinned and turned on the water faucet to give his face a good rinsing while Marianne watched him in the mirror. When he looked in the mirror, all signs of shaving cream, blood, and whiskers gone, she gasped. 

“Ta-da,” he said with a slightly worried half-smile. 

“Woooow…” Marianne murmured. 

Bog looked at her in the mirror touching his now smooth cheeks. “Not too horrible?” he asked with real concern. 

Without his beard and his long hair pulled back, Bog’s eyes were even more startling blue. It was as if his entire face had opened up. His cheekbones were high and sharp, the kind of cheekbones any model would kill for. His jawline was long and sharp as well, ending in a long, pointed chin. Without the beard she could really see his full, sensual lips, and when he smiled, she felt herself become lightheaded...wow… 

“Not too horrible at all,” Marianne said breathlessly 

Bog blushed. “Really?” 

Marianne nodded. “I think though to really know I would have to, you know...kiss you.” 

Bog grinned and repeated. “Really?” 

Marianne hurriedly cleaned the straight razor. “Yes. Wanna show me your bedroom?” 

Bog’s smile widened. “Sure…” 

He took her hand and led her out of the bathroom, down the hall, and up the stairs to his bedroom at a quick walk, which made Marianne laugh. 

Bog’s bedroom was large, taking up most of the upper floor. The walls were painted a light grey, the floors dark hardwood with a couple of white throw rugs lying strategically about. There were framed photos on the walls of beautiful landscapes in black and white, images of what Marianne thought might be London, Paris, and other foreign cities she had never been to along with some art photographs of cars, all of which she was sure that Bog had taken himself. The bed was large, large enough that she had to wonder how he had gotten the thing up the stairs and into the room. It had a wooden head and footboard with simple clean lines and a thick white and grey bedspread with lots of pillows. There was a desk and computer with a drawing pad in a corner of the room, and the rest of the space was taken up with bookshelves, and a guitar on a stand. There was a closet with mirrored doors, and a door that was slightly ajar showing another bathroom. 

Bog stepped into the room and turned to face her, throwing his arms out. “And here it is, the bedroom, where nothing happens.” 

Marianne giggled walking over to flop down on the bed. “Oooh, so soft…” 

Bog came over and sat down beside her. “My mother bought the mattress, pillows, the frame, and the bedspread. I would probably have had a mattress on the floor with some old blankets.” 

Marianne shook her head. “Being rich is wasted on you.” 

Bog laughed and grabbed her, rolling on top of her. “Oh, is it now?” 

Marianne giggled reaching up to stroke his clean shaven cheeks before reaching up to pull his bun free. His long hair fell down to frame his face and Marianne felt every nerve in her body respond. She cupped his face in her hands, pulling him down to kiss him hard. Bog responded, kissing her slowly and with rapidly growing heat. Marianne moaned in response, slowing her own kisses into erotic caresses that sent waves of heat through Bog. She licked his lips and Bog responded by a gentle push of his pelvis between her legs. 

Marianne’s hands moved down his shoulders, the simmering heat of their earlier kissing quickly returning. She moaned softly again, pulling at the hoodie he wore. Bog sat up on his knees long enough to reach behind his head to pull the hoodie up over his head, flinging it to the floor before dropping back down. Marianne wrapped her arms around him, kissing him, sucking on his bottom lip, her hands sliding along his back, her fingers feeling the scars that ran along his back and shoulder blades. The scars were wide and harsh, making her shudder as she thought about what he had told her about the car accident, about him hanging there upside down, alone, hurt, dying, and her heart ached. She could have lost him without ever knowing him. 

Marianne pushed on Bog’s shoulders and he rolled over onto his back, taking her with him. Marianne straddled him, her mouth moving over his lips, pressing down against him, grinding slowly Bog made a soft groan, his hands sliding under her top. She smiled and sat up to pull the shirt off once more, revealing the pretty bra she was wearing that made Bog’s groin ache. He reached up to cup her breasts over her bra. Marianne caught her bottom lip with her teeth and groaned, grinding against his bound erection. He was so hard and she enjoyed the way he felt between her legs. 

Bog squeezed her breasts gently before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her down to him, her hands sliding down her back, his fingers slipping under the band of her pants. They kissed more frantically. Bog’s hands moved up to her shoulders, his fingers catching her bra straps. He slipped the straps off her shoulders just a little before he moved his hands back to her throat to caress the sides of her neck while they continued to kiss. 

Marianne ran her hands along his chest, grinding against him until Bog groaned deeper. He grasped her upper arms and rolled her over onto her side so that they were facing each other, pulling her against him, holding her tight while he continued to kiss her. 

Marianne wrapped a leg around his hips, pulling him closer when she suddenly felt another body behind her followed by another set of arms around her and lips on her shoulder. 

Marianne stiffened in surprise and Bog pulled away from her as her eyes widened. “Oh gosh...I’m so sorry! I was relaxed…” 

Bog behind her released her and hopped out of the bed. She turned to look at him over her shoulder, he had the same identical upset expression as Bog in front of her. 

Marianne giggled turning back to face him again. Bog murmured. “I’m so sorry…” 

“Don’t be, I told you to relax around me. You said staying in just one body was like wearing a corset. So, ah, you can take that corset off around me.” She smiled tenderly, caressing his face and brushing her thumb over his bottom lip. “It’s all right.” 

Bog blushed. “Are you sure?” 

Marianne nodded. “Yes.” She felt the bed shift behind her and once more Bog was curled up against her back, sliding an arm under her to wrap around her waist, while Bog facing her brushed his nose against hers. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered before catching her mouth in a kiss. Marianne relaxed, feeling Bog behind her stroke her hip, his erection pressed against her backside, just as hard as the one in front of her. She wasn’t quite ready to go all the way, but this was going to be very interesting when she was ready. She grinned happily against his mouth, stroking her hand along his chest, then snaking down along his stomach feeling the ripple of his muscles, then lower reaching down to cup his bound erection over his sweats. Both Bogs bucked and groaned, which made her wonder: did he have multiple orgasms? Wow, she bet he did. 

Bog moved his kisses from her mouth to her throat, sliding his tongue along the graceful column as he slid a hand down over her breast, squeezing gently. He wrapped his fingers around the cup of her bra and slowly pulled it down to expose her nipple. Marianne moaned then hissed with pleasure when his finger, warm and gentle, caressed her nipple. 

Bog kissed her shoulder from behind her as he moved his hand from her hip to slide his fingers between her legs over her pants. He pressed gently and when she jerked with a pleased moan escaping her lips and a breathy “Yes!” he knew he had found the right spot to caress. He pressed his fingers against her more firmly, feeling the heat between her legs. He groaned against her shoulder, whispering her name. 

Marianne gasped, closing her eyes and caressing his leg behind her with her foot. Bog in front of her, gently sucked on her throat, his thumb stroking her nipple back and forth while his hand moved between her legs. She shuddered, pressing her rear back against one erection while she massaged the other cupped in her hand. Bog made the most delicious sounds of pleasure that had her shuddering with every ripple that rolled over her. Behind her, Bog licked the back of her ear, his mouth moving along her shoulder again, his breath hot against her skin, while Bog in front of her once more captured her mouth, his tongue sliding into her mouth. If this was what making out was like with him, she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to handle sex with him while remaining sane! 

Bog’s arm around her waist tightened, and his hips rubbing against her rear made her shudder. He was so hard and in her hand he felt so hard and big, and oh god, her mind was going to short circuit from this she thought as she rubbed and fondled him. He kissed her deeply, pinching her nipple gently while his fingers stroked more persistently between her hips. Their legs were a tangle of limbs, she was surrounded by him, by his scent, by the heat of his bodies, the pleasure of him. She thrust her hips against his hand while Bog kissed her. He bit and gently sucked at her throat until she couldn’t take it any longer. 

She gasped, a rush of pleasure and heat rolled over her. Marianne climaxed at the same time she heard and felt Bog groan deeply, goosebumps breaking out across his skin, his pants becoming wet where she held him, his groin behind her pressed against her backside. She had never felt anything so intense as the pleasure she had just felt with Bog. 

Marianne shuddered, massaging him a few seconds longer, feeling him press both against her rear and into her hand, his bodies bucking a little. His fingers between her legs rubbed in gentle circles making her shudder while he continued to stroke and pinch her nipple until she was jerking with a gasp 

“Uh stop...Bog...oh…” she groaned. 

Bog stopped wrapping his arms around her waist from behind while he cupped her face in his hands. “You all right?” he asked with concern. 

Marianne giggled. “Oh, yeah. I’m all right.” She blushed, causing Bog to smile and brush his nose against hers while behind her he kissed her shoulder. 

He whispered softly. “Would you like to stay the night? We won’t do anything else, just cuddle. And in the morning we could drive out to the lake and take my boat out for the afternoon or the whole day, maybe nap on the boat, then I could drive you home in the morning, or that evening...if you want..I don’t want you to feel pressured, but...” He smiled. “...I would like that, to spend the day with you...though I don’t want you to feel…” 

Marianne smiled brightly. “I would love to stay the night and spend the day on your boat--and another night...” She giggled blushing. 

Bog grinned, kissing her tenderly. “I’ll make you pancakes in the morning.” 

“That sounds divine,” she whispered back. 

* 

Bog found her an old, well worn t-shirt of his that came down to her knees for her to sleep in. He wore only a pair of dark blue sweatpants. Marianne curled up against Bog’s side, her head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth and scent of his bare skin when he laid down on his back next to her, his other self curled up against her side, wrapping his arms around her, one leg between hers. 

She could hear another one of him moving around downstairs cleaning up and yet another was working softly at the computer. 

Marianne rose up a little to see Bog working at the computer. He turned and winked at her which made her giggle before she settled down next to him. 

“This is so weird,” she whispered. 

“I can reduce it to just one of me,” he said stroking her arm around his waist. “You are my primary focus, anyway.” 

Marianne whispered against his chest. “No, don’t. I’ll get used to it.” 

Bog beamed with pleasure. The way she said that statement made him hopeful. He kept smiling even after Marianne had fallen asleep, his smile still in place as he drifted off to the sounds of him typing on the computer.


	6. Clothes, Pancakes and the Hamptons

Standing in his kitchen with his hair pulled back into a tail at the base of his head, Bog grinned. He wore a long silk robe over a pair of dark printed pajama pants, the robe hanging open while he made coffee, and held his phone between his ear and shoulder. He looked through his refrigerator to see what he could throw together for breakfast. He had Marianne he would make pancakes for her, but he wasn’t sure he had everything to make them. When he found the syrup in one of the overhead cabinets, he wanted to cheer for joy. 

He was feeling happier at this moment than he could ever recall feeling. Marianne accepted him as he was… 

And that was amazing! 

He had been ready to be rejected, or for her to be too disgusted or weirded out to stay, but...Bog blushed remembering last night, holding her between them, touching her, the little sounds of pleasure she made… 

When she had cuddled up against him, letting him wrap himself around her completely, he had felt as if his dreams had come true! 

He had been attracted to her--found himself falling for her--but last night he had toppled over the edge and was falling head first in love. 

As Bog opened the fridge again, looking for some bacon, he thought about Olivia, the woman he had almost married. Even Olivia had never fully accepted him and his abilities since they were so beyond the norm of any prime known. It had irritated her that he was immune to her mental abilities too. 

And that never set well with him. 

Why would she want him to be susceptible to her mental manipulation unless she planned on manipulating him? Frowning, Bog dismissed his thoughts of Olivia and instead focused again on Marianne. 

He could feel her, still asleep, sandwiched between him, her head nestled on his shoulder. She was snorting lightly, which he found adorable, cuddled between him. Marianne had rolled onto her back, which had started the snoring. Bog gently moved her back onto her side and the snoring stopped. Bog chuckled as his thoughts drifted back to last night as he caressed her face, the feel of her skin, her hot breath against him. 

He blushed and grinned from ear to ear as he pulled out a package of bacon, some eggs, and milk just as the phone picked up on the other end. 

“Bog honey, is everything all right? Why are you calling so early?” The voice of Bog’s mother came through the phone. She didn't sound upset or worried, but slightly concerned because of the hour. 

It was not quite six a.m. 

“I’m fine Mam, I just…” Bog blushed, setting the milk, bacon, and eggs on the counter, then turned and reach for a bowl from one of the cabinets. “I just had to tell you about this girl I met…” 

Bog bent over looking for his cooling racks for the bacon. 

“Girl you met?” Griselda lifted a brow on her end of the line. 

She was aware that her son hadn’t left his apartment in months. She had been worried about him, but her husband had told her to let their son be; he needed time after the accident to heal, mentally as well as physically. They had been there through his physical healing, but now he needed to heal mentally and there was only so much they could do to help him. 

When Bog had stopped leaving his apartment Griselda had wanted to swoop in and help her boy, but her husband had told her she could do nothing but let Bog heal in his own way and in his own time. They would make themselves available to their only son, but if he didn’t want their help, they couldn’t force him. 

Griselda knew his isolation had gone on long enough that even Bog’s father was starting to worry. If Bog had met a girl then that meant he had left the apartment, which in turn meant that Bog was doing better. She smiled as a wave of relief washing over her. Leaving Bog alone had been the hardest thing she had done for her son. Her motherly instincts had been to remain in New York with her son even when he didn’t want her there. It had taken everything her husband Edward had to convince her to leave Bog alone, that staying, when he clearly didn’t want them there, might do more harm than good. 

Now it seemed that Edward had been correct. 

Griselda sat down at the table outside on their balcony overlooking the ocean. She was still in her bathrobe, the morning air cool, but she could feel the oncoming heat in the breeze as she reached over to pick up her tea. She could see the little tendrils of heat rising off the cup as she took a sip. 

The air was warm where they were, compared to where their son was right now, the morning bright and beautiful. Breakfast, which consisted of eggs, muffins, and some slices of apple, lay on her plate, untouched as of yet. Her husband Edward, sat across from her, wearing a matching robe and slippers, was sipping his orange juice and reading the news on his tablet. He looked up over the rim of his glasses at his wife and smiled. 

Griselda said softly, “Bog’s met a girl.” 

Edward blinked in surprise and set his pad down, his eyes widening behind his glasses. “He has?” 

She nodded, turning her attention back to the phone. “So how did you meet this girl?” 

Bog rummaged around, pulling out some spoons, and found his measuring cups while he spoke. “I met her at this coffee shop…” 

“He met her at a coffee shop,” Griselda said with a grin. 

Edward smiled back at his wife. “He did?” 

“So what’s she like?” Griselda asked, her eyes bright and a smile on her face that was going to make her cheeks hurt later. Bog seemed to be getting better, if the sound in his voice and the news he had just shared were a proper indicator. Griselda’s heart twisted in her chest and her eyes began to sting with unshed tears. 

Edward stood up and walked around the table to lean down and wrap his arms around his wife’s shoulders while she talked to their son. 

“Well, she’s beautiful, smart, funny...and…” He frowned for a moment. Marianne’s secret wasn’t his to tell, but he wanted to tell his parents that she knew about him. 

Bog swallowed, pressing his lips together for a moment. He had stopped in mid-motion of putting the frying pan on the oven. He debated for another few seconds before he said softly, 

“She knows what I can do.” 

“What?!!” Griselda sat up straight breaking her husband’s embrace. “She knows about your abilities?!!” 

Griselda turned in her seat to share a look of shock with her husband. “She knows about Bog’s abilities!” 

Edward blanched. “What?” 

Griselda asked with a hiss. “Bog...how??” 

After asking her question, Griselda put her phone on speaker and set it on the table in front of them. 

“Well...look Mam, Da. It’s not really my place to talk about this, I mean...I shouldn’t be telling you because I didn’t get Marianne’s blessing, but I just...Mam…” Bog felt lost for a moment, not sure how to explain himself before he continued, his voice filled with emotion. 

“I had to tell her--I needed to tell her.” 

He fell silent as his mother and father, speaking nearly at the same time, started to go through the reasons he wasn’t supposed to share what he could do, how dangerous it was for normal people to know, there was the government and what they would do to people like them, there were other organizations out there looking for people like them to use, there were hunters that killed primes for being different, there were people like Olivia who would want to use someone with powers like Bog, scientists who would want to dissect him, the list was long for all the reason Bog should never tell anyone about what he could do…And he had heard all those reasons before. 

Bog broke through his parents' stream of reasons to say softly. “I think I might be falling in love with her.” 

Bog set the frying pan down he had been holding and leaned back against the counter, his heart pounding hard in his chest. 

Bog’s parents went quiet before his mother whispered. “Oh Bog…” 

“It’s not like with Olivia…” he started, but Bog’s father’s voice broke through. 

“Son…” 

“Marianne is different,” Bog started. “She’s...special…” 

Griselda murmured. “Honey...just...” She sighed heavily. “...be careful.” 

“I am Mam.” Bog smiled. “One of the reasons I called was because I’m being careful, but...trust me when I say she isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met before…” 

Griselda smiled a little sadly. “I’m glad dear.” 

“I’m going to take her up to my place in the Hamptons and we’re gonna take the boat out.” He turned, grabbed the eggs, and started to crack them. “Is Sunny still staying up there? I talked to him a couple of weeks ago...” 

Edward nodded even though his son couldn’t see him. “He is. I think he's working on some music or something…” 

“Cool…” Bog began searching for flour. “He’ll get to meet Marianne.” 

Edward and Griselda exchanged a look, which meant they were going to be calling Sunny tonight to get the skinny on this girl. 

“All right honey, have a good time,” Griselda replied with Edward following suit. “Yes, you have a good time on the water son.” 

“Thank you guys. I love you. I’ll call later today or tomorrow night. I love you both.” Bog smiled as his mother and father together called out. “We love you too!” 

Once Bog had hung up the phone Griselda frowned at her husband. “How soon could we be in New York?” 

Edward rubbed his chin in thought. “Two days max if the jet needs anything, but I think we can be there in twenty-four after we finish our work up here.” 

“Would it be…” she began, but her husband shook his head. “No, it wouldn’t. I’ll go and make sure the jet is ready to go.” He kissed the top of her head and left the balcony. 

Griselda watched her husband go with a frown. She didn’t want to be a hovering, overly protective mother, but after the accident with Bog, when she was sure she was going to lose him, and before that--Olivia, ripping his heart out the way she had, Griselda wanted no more harm to come to her son. It didn't matter how old he was, he was her baby, her only child, and he was very special for so many reasons. 

She needed to get to New York and get the measure of this Marianne...and hopefully stop her son from having his heart broken again. She didn’t think Bog could survive being destroyed again… 

* 

Marianne sighed with contentment as she snuggled up against the warm body on her right and smiling as the warm body on her left moved closer and wrapped his arms around her waist. She was surrounded by the masculine smell of vanilla and spice. She was coming awake slowly, her cheek pressed against a warm, muscled chest while strong, slender toned arms held her tight from behind, his pelvis pressed against her backside where she could feel his morning...uh...wakefulness. 

Marianne grinned to herself. She couldn’t recall the last time she had slept this deeply or thoroughly. As consciousness took hold, Marianne remembered the events of last night. Bog’s kiss, his body pressed against hers, the smell of his skin, that he knew that she could do things, that... 

Her eyes opened wide. 

Bog could duplicate himself!! 

She realized at the same time that while she was in bed, it was Bog’s bed, not her bed, and on either side of her...lay Bog. 

“Did you sleep all right?” Bog’s slightly accented voice asked her gently. 

Marianne looked up to see Bog looking down at her smiling. Some of his hair had come loose and was hanging around his face. His eyes were so blue they almost seemed to glow in the dim light leaking into the bedroom and he was clean shaven. She could see there was some concern in his blue eyes, worry, fear maybe. She smiled remembering them in his bathroom together, how nervous he had been about removing the beard. She also remembered with clarity being in his bed last night, being sandwiched between two of him… 

But she could tell from his gaze he was still worried she was going to be scared of him, reject him. 

“I slept great.” She smiled brightly at him. 

Bog behind her squeezed her, burying his face against her shoulder, peppering her skin with kisses while the Bog she was speaking to caressed his fingers through her hair, his gaze tender and sweet. He made her heart twist in her chest. 

“Well, breakfast is almost ready if you want to come into the kitchen. I promised pancakes and I have delivered on the promised pancakes.” He grinned at her, showing off his slightly crooked teeth. “I didn’t burn even one!” 

“I would love some pancakes.” She smiled back at him, which only made Bog smile wider and the Bog behind her nibbled her ear sending pleasurable goosebumps down her back and arms. 

“Great because I made way too many.” Bog laughed. “There’s a robe in the bathroom if you want. Oh and I ordered an outfit for you, should be delivered around the time we’re done with breakfast.” 

“Delivered?” Marianne asked in surprise, but Bog laughed. 

“You said being rich was wasted on me. I hope you like what I picked out. I figured we need to get on the road as soon as we’re done with breakfast so we can get to the Hamptons at a decent time, which is the only reason I didn’t wait so you could pick something out. I don’t want to be one of those overbearing assholes.” 

“Uh...no that’s fine…” Marianne was a little stunned as she whispered. “The Hamptons?” Marianne asked as she sat up. The Bog behind her vanished with a hint of distortion in the air that quickly dissipated, causing her to jump, but she made no comment. She would have to get used to that... 

The Bog speaking to her nodded, pushing himself up on his elbow. “Yeah, that’s where my boat is. I thought we could spend the entire day and maybe spend the night at my Hamptons place. I can drive you back early so you’re not late for work…” Bog asked hopefully. 

Marianne swallowed, then added with a smile. “You know, I think I might be sick tomorrow…” 

Bog’s grin was contagious. 

* 

A few moments later, Marianne wandered into the kitchen to the smell of rich, expensive coffee and bacon. When she had come out of the bathroom the only Bog in the room had been the one at the computer wearing a dark blue silk robe with matching pants. The robe was open and he was barefoot while he typed, his long hair pulled back into a tail. He turned when she had left the bathroom, giving her a smile and winked before focusing back on the work he was doing. The two in the bed were gone. 

Man, this was so weird, she thought as she walked barefoot through the bedroom. 

When she came out of the bedroom there was one Bog in the kitchen and another sitting on the couch playing the guitar softly. He glanced up and smiled at her, while the Bog in the kitchen did the same. 

For a moment she wasn’t sure which one she should address when kitchen Bog saved her by holding up a couple of plates. 

“Get it while it’s hot!” he announced. 

Marianne grinned. “I’m starved!” 

“Good, because I have enough pancakes to feed an army. I wasn’t sure how you liked them so some are fried in bacon grease and some are the fluffy kind and some were fried in vegetable oil.” 

Bog set the plates down as Marianne sat down at the table. 

On the table, she saw a plate filled with bacon, two glasses of orange juice and apple juice, a pot of coffee, cream, sugar, and milk, as well as a bottle of real maple syrup (not the cheap stuff she would buy) and some butter (not in a tub, but on a butter plate.) 

“Wow.” Marianne looked at the spread. 

Bog grinned with his cheeks coloring. “I may have gone a little overboard…” 

“No, no, this is great!” Marianne smiled. “And I like pancakes any way they are made.” 

“Good.” Bog grinned. 

* 

While they ate, the Bog on the couch continued to play the guitar, filling the room with music. The Bog she had seen in the bedroom came into the kitchen, grabbed a cup of coffee, made a plate of pancakes and bacon. He winked at Marianne before he walked back into the bedroom. 

Marianne stared, her mouth full of pancakes, watching the other Bog wander out to return to the bedroom again. She swallowed, taking a large gulp of milk before she asked. “Do you need to...feed all of you?” 

Bog lifted a dark brow at her while he chewed on a piece of bacon. “What?” 

“Do you have to eat more than the average person?” she asked, taking another sip of her coffee. 

Bog smiled a little. “Well, yeah...I tend to do a lot of snacking over multiple bodies. Now if I was altogether, ate a huge meal and then split, I would be fine for a while, but when I’m split I tend to eat a lot over several bodies. My metabolism is higher than normal too.” He picked up another piece of bacon and rubbed it into the syrup on his plate. “At least that’s what my parents think, and I’ll admit I get hungrier the more splits I’ve made.” He smiled a little at the memory of his mother giving him multiple backpacks filled with snacks. “When I was a kid I had a hard time keeping on any weight because I kept trying to eat like a normal person, but now all of my bodies eat…” He shrugged glancing over at her. “It’s weird, I know...but yes...I eat a lot and I like food, so that’s good.” He smirked. “And I have that awful sweet tooth I told you about. When I was younger I would have eaten junk food all day.” He chuckled. “Sometimes I do now since my mother isn’t here to get after me.” He smirked at her and popped the bacon into his mouth. 

Marianne chuckled. She was about to make a comment about being jealous of a metabolism like that when there was a buzzing sound coming from the intercom at the door. 

“Excuse me.” Bog stood from the table and hurried over to the door. 

Marianne smiled watching him go just as guitar Bog stopped playing and followed the other Bog. 

While she watched, guitar Bog stayed hidden behind the door while Bog spoke to a delivery man. He signed a clipboard, handing it back then brought in four large boxes. Once the door was closed both Bogs lifted the boxes--two each--and brought them into the living room. 

Both Bogs grinned at her, one of them saying as they set the boxes down, “I didn’t know for sure what you would like, so I bought several things for you to pick from. The rest you can take home or I can return them, or donate them if you hate everything I picked because I don’t have an eye for women’s fashion…” 

Marianne giggled and rose up from her seat. “You know, I could have just illusioned something new over my clothes from last night…” 

“Yeah, but why when you can just get some new clothes from your stupidly rich boyfriend?” Bog grinned, quirking a brow at her, followed by him shrugging as one of him went into the kitchen and came back with a box cutter. “Besides, it’s nice for me to spend my money on someone other than myself.” 

“Bog I don’t want you to think that you have to…” Marianne began, but Bog without the box cutter stepped over and cupped her face in his long-fingered hands. He gently tilted her head up and held her gently while staring down at her. Marianne’s breath left her in a rush as she stared into his blue eyes. 

“I know, but I wanted to, I want to give you anything and everything,” he whispered just before he kissed her. 

Marianne reached up, grabbed his waist, and rose up onto her toes at the same time, giving herself over to his kiss, which tasted of coffee and maple syrup. 

She could hear Bog opening the boxes while she kissed this Bog. It was an interesting sensation, because he was completely devoted to the kiss, but still opening boxes. She couldn’t find it in herself to be annoyed by that because she didn’t feel like Bog was dividing his attention. The quality of the kiss was a clear indication that he was fully involved. 

Marianne banished all her thoughts to focus only on returning his delicious kiss with equal attention to detail. 

When he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, Bog smiled into her eyes. 

“Now, ready to see what I bought?” 

Marianne giggled. “Yes.” 

* 

Together they sat on the couch, rummaging through the boxes while the other Bog with them pulled out the sets of shoes he had bought. 

“I looked at your size in your clothes here, so hopefully I did all right,” Bog said as he pulled out a dark purple sweater, followed by a pair of denim leggings. The other Bog pulled out some really nice brown leather ankle boots that made Marianne gasp the moment she saw them. Each item both he pulled out made Marianne’s eyes widen with surprise and pleasure. These weren’t the usual stuff Marianne purchased. They weren’t knock-offs or purchases made at a high end thrift store. Each item of clothing was expensive, well-made, fashionable, and … 

Well Marianne didn’t want to even think about the price tag because she might pass out. 

“Oh my god Bog, you...Wow.” Marianne stared at a pair of knee high boots with laces up the sides as if she were a thirsty traveler looking at water in an oasis. 

Bog smiled, looking unsure of himself. “Do you like any of them?” 

Marianne turned her disbeliving eyes on Bog. “What?” 

“Well, I wasn’t sure…” he began, but it was Marianne’s turn to grab Bog’s face and kiss him. His eyes widened in surprise for a second before he smiled and returned her kiss, melting into her. Marianne made a soft sigh of pleasure, her tongue playing softly with his, her fingers sliding into his hair. Bog wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer. 

Marianne giggled and pulled back after a moment, though she placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. 

“Bog, these are wonderful...you have great taste and these are way, way, way, more expensive than...I mean, you shouldn’t have spent this much on me, but wow.” She held up a light chocolate brown and beige striped lace cowl neck sweater. The material was soft in a way that made her want to cry. 

She smiled at Bog. “You did great! I love everything: the sweaters, shirts, the pants...oh my god the boots! Would it be super selfish of me if I wanted to keep everything? That would be so selfish...” She shook her head at herself. 

Bog beamed, clearly pleased with himself. “You should keep it all and...you should shower and get changed, because we need to get going!” 

Marianne frowned. “I don’t want to use up your hot water…” 

“Pfft...I don’t run out of hot water. Go shower, take as hot a shower as you want...Oh, there should be…” He stood up and dug into one of the boxes. “Ah! Here we go...I got you some make up and some bras and panties based on what you had on…” Bog stopped, holding up a bra and groaned. “Fuck...I just slid into creepy boyfriend territory…” 

Marianne laughed, snatching the bra out of his hand. “Stop it!” She raced off toward his room. “I’ll only be a few minutes!!” 

Bog smirked watching her go, his chest swelling with happiness. 

* 

Bog had gone to the upstairs bathroom to shower and dress while Marianne was in his bedroom bathroom. He cleaned the kitchen while he also worked on some paperwork for his company and continued to play the guitar (he was working on a song for Marianne. God he was being teen romance levels of sweet, syrupy romantic, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.) 

When he came down the stairs, Marianne was coming out of his bathroom at the same time. 

They both stopped and stared at each other. 

Marianne felt all the breath in her body leave in a silent gasp as she stared at Bog. 

God, she thought, the man was walking sex! 

He was wearing a pair of tight black jeans, the knees of which were fashionably out. He had on a pair of black suede ankle boots with silver zippers and the shirt...oh good golly, the shirt! It was a simple black t-shirt, but the material and cut hugged him like a second skin. It had an asymmetrical collar that showed off his long throat and a hint of his collarbone on his left side. He had pulled his hair back into a tail again, but without the beard Marianne could really appreciate the sharp contours of his face, his long sharp nose, chin, and most especially his sexy, sensual lips. 

He looked good enough to eat! 

Bog was staring at Marianne, his lips parted in pleasant surprise. 

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He had thought that the moment he saw her in the coffee shop, but now seeing her, standing there in his apartment. Bog couldn’t find the words to describe her that would do Marianne justice. 

He smiled and swallowed, trying to ignore how fast and hard his heart was beating as he came down the stairs. 

“So, ah...ready?” he asked. 

Marianne grinned. “I am if you are.” 

Bog chuckled as he descended the last few stairs and put his hand out to her. “Well, let’s go then.” 

* 

The drive to the Hamptons was, Marianne decided, fun. 

(Just before they had left, Bog had slipped on a waist length, leather biker jacket that almost made her climax the moment he slipped it on.) 

Bog put in a CD mix of oldies and the two of them sang along, their voices loud and filled with laughter. They played a game of “I spy with my little eye,” which was funny and difficult as Bog found the most obscure things he could find, stumping Marianne nearly every time until she punched him in the shoulder. When she did, Bog caused another of him to appear in the back. 

“You punched me right out of me!” he yelled with laughter only making Marianne playfully punch him in the shoulder a second time. 

But when they arrived in the Hamptons, Marianne lost her voice. 

She had never been up to this area in the state, but she had seen pictures online of the blue oceans, the greenery, the large expensive houses, and gorgeous yards, all with scenic views of the ocean. The place looked like a wealthy person’s playground. 

Marianne realized that pictures she had seen online simply didn’t do the place justice as Bog drove them past several homes, all of them at least twice the side of the house she grew up in. 

They made their way into the main shopping area, that was this mix of small town charm, but with that sort of “this place is super expensive and you can’t afford to breathe the air here” quality to it. It reminded her of stories of Marie Antoinette making herself a peasant village to play in. The Hamptons shopping area was playing at small town charm while really being only for the wealthy. 

She was both thrilled to be here, but felt like an outsider, a rat among the fancy cats. She wondered if they could smell poor? Bog could buy her nice clothes, but that didn’t change who she was...where she had come from...or the fact that she sold makeup to rich people and lived in a dinky apartment she could barely afford. 

Bog glanced over at her as he drove. He could see the look on her face. He may not be able to read minds like his mother, but it didn’t take a telepath to see that Marianne was feeling out of place. 

He reached over and laid his hand over her knee. “Hey…” 

Marianne turned to look at him. “Bog...I ah...are you sure you want…” 

He squeezed her knee. “Before you ask, yes I want you and yes, you belong here just as much as anyone else. These people are rich, but that doesn’t make them that much different from you, really. They think they are, but they aren’t. You are a smart, beautiful woman who I find amazing. Most of these people are too full of themselves to realize that they aren’t that special.” 

Marianne chuckled laying her hand over his hand. “Thank you Bog.” 

“Nothing to thank me for, just stating the truth.” Bog smiled leaning over to steal a quick kiss from her cheek. 

* 

Once they left the main area they drove out where the houses, if anything, were bigger and grander. The landscaped grounds of the places became larger with more gates and even fancier cars, some hidden behind walls, gates, and trees. Marianne pressed her lips together, paling slightly. She had known Bog was rich, from the nice clothes, to the fancy car, the really nice brownstone, but now being here in the Hamptons. 

Bog drove down a tree lined road, the ocean was on his right, she could see it through the trees and the homes (which were set wide apart became of how much land each home had), until he made a right and stopped at a gate. He rolled his window down and pushed the buzzer. He only had to wait a couple of seconds before someone answered. 

“Hey, is that you Bog?” 

Bog rolled his eyes and pushed the answer button. “Sunny, you know someone could lie to you if you phrase it like that? But yes, it's me.” 

The answering voice was laughing, which made Marianne smile. Whoever Sunny was, the man had an infectious laugh. “Sorry Bog, buzzing you in.” 

Marianne asked. “So is this Sunny’s place?” 

“Nope, mine, designed it myself. Sunny lives around here, though he has a place a little further inland.” Bog grinned as he drove. “You’re gonna love Sunny. He’s my best friend. I haven’t been up here in a while...not since the accident actually, though I have service that comes in the take care of the grounds and keep the house clean once a month. I called Sunny last night and asked if he would open the house for me, grab some stuff so we can have a picnic on the boat…” he shrugged. “That sort of thing.” 

“Is Sunny rich too?” she asked, her voice soft as if she were afraid of the answer. 

Bog nodded. “Yeah, he owns a landscaping business out here, one of the best and he DJ’s on the side.” 

“Is he...like us?” Marianne asked in a whisper as if someone could hear them in Bog’s car. 

Bog looked sideways at her and nodded silently. 

Marianne nodded back her understanding. She probably shouldn’t say anything about powers around this Sunny person until...later. Maybe. 

She understood. If Bog’s nod meant he had powers like her and Bog, this Sunny may not want her, someone he didn't know, well...to know he had abilities. It showed her how much Bog trusted her to share that information with her. 

The drive up to Bog’s house was long and lined with trees, so she didn’t see the house until they took a turn into a large, curving driveway. 

Marianne’s mouth fell open. She was beginning to feel as if that would happen a lot around Bog. 

The house was modern in design, squares and angles like a piece of modern art dominated by a large round window that reached from the roof to the ground, dominating the entire front wall of the house. The porch extended out into the yard, but in a way that made it look natural, as if it were part of the landscape, surrounded by greenery, trees, bushes, flowers. There was a large section of the home that was just a window instead of walls, giving the house a very modern, yet somehow still harmonious feel with the nature around it. 

The house was bigger than the house she had grown up in by...well, a lot she thought, and this was just one of at least two places that Bog owned. 

Marianne swallowed as the realization of just how rich Bog really was began to sink in. 

Damn. She hadn’t even seen the boat yet!


End file.
